


Sunrise and Bandages

by Shadowblayze



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Shenanigans, Starts pre-Third War, Tanyth just wants to heal people and avoid zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 06:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 92,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowblayze/pseuds/Shadowblayze
Summary: In which Tanyth wasn't always Tanyth but that's okay because she's always been adaptable. Sometimes to her detriment.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> Welcome to some self-indulgent, waiting-for-Argus inspired nonsense. Please proceed at your own risk.
> 
> ―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

It was her favorite part of the day, and for the first time in a week she had made it up to the highest point of the Cathedral to greet it properly.

Tanyth idly munched on her apple- slightly bruised and a little overripe, but still tasty- as the lightening sky tinted pink, then violet, then blue and finally golden.  As she watched, the sun itself crept over the edge of the horizon its vivid golden gaze spilling brilliant light onto the waters of Great Sea, staining them red-orange; like fire in the hearth. 

Her apple gone- well, down to its core, which she then tossed over in the corner for the pigeons- she efficiently licked the remains of her breakfast off her fingers before folding her legs up towards her chest and hiding her hands behind her knees.  Being this high meant that the winds really had no other obstacles and thus their morning chill was stark.

There still wasn’t anywhere quite like the steeple of the Cathedral of Light to watch a sunrise, though.

Stormwind boasted stone buildings, and some were really more like stone skyscrapers.  The brightly colored roof tiles twinkled merrily in the morning light while the warm woods of storefronts built out from Stormwind’s solidly blue-grey stone backbone softened the glare just enough to make the view decidedly pleasant.  The canals- which spanned the city- sparkled, their green waters adding a soothing white noise that softened the calls from shopkeepers and citizens already out on the streets.  The trees and grasses that crept along the walkways in neatly appointed parks or trenches added a dash of nature’s unrestrained beauty to Stormwind’s severe architecture.

The bell behind her tolled, the vibrations nearly pitching her off the balustrade she _wasn’t_ supposed to be sitting on, and she sighed.  Carefully hopping over the rail and smoothing down her simple linen dress she made her way towards the stairs, knowing that if she wasn’t down in the Cathedral proper for morning prayers Sister Shaina would get an _earful_ from Brother Joshua.

She grumbled some not-so-charitable things about the rather pushy Brother as she bounded down the winding steps, tracing lines in the walls on either side of her with her fingers. 

 _‘I need to remind Sister Shaina that we need to make those heavy wool bandages for the Abbey.  Otherwise she’ll probably forget again.’_  She mused as she kept her eyes trained on the grey stone steps- pitched downward and inward to help repel attackers, according to Paladin Gazin- crossing a short landing before descending another set of steps.  _‘They’re running really low out there and we still have the silk bandages for the Army to get done this week.’_

She was lucky, she knew, to have a family member to claim her.  Luckier still to be in Stormwind; in the Cathedral, the first place to be rebuilt.  She still felt a little less than content spending her days singing songs of the Light as she stitched bandages together, sealing rolls of them shut with arcane spells to keep them potent and fresh.

So.  _Many_.  Bandages.

Tanyth had _nightmares_ about sewing linen bandages with silken thread by accident and having to redo them _all_.  It never failed to make her twitchy about triple-checking her supplies the entire next day, much to Sister Shaina ill-concealed delight.

Bounding down the last of the steps, she double checked her dress and quickly plaited her hair, staying back in the shadows of the open doorway to- hopefully- save herself a reprimand.

No such luck.

“Tanyth!  Where _have_ you _been_?”  Sister Shaina- technically Tanyth’s cousin- hissed as the older woman hurried over to her, batting Tanyth’s hands away and quickly braiding the girl’s hair, twisting it up and then tucking it under into the regulation bun for Cathedral support staff.  Once done the woman turned Tanyth around and began to scrub at nonexistent dirt on Tanyth’s face. 

Tanyth _knew_ this because she had washed up properly before she had gone sky-gazing, thank you very much.

“-ing today and we’re supposed to be working when they come.”  Shaina was saying, grabbing onto Tanyth’s hand and hauling the girl out the doorframe, the woman’s white nurse’s dress making soft swishing sounds as they walked.  Er, half-jogged. 

Shaina kept babbling but Tanyth wasn’t able to make out any of it as they wound around the outer edge of the main hall of the Cathedral and towards their workroom on the right side. 

Soon enough Shaina dumped Tanyth into her usual seat, a hard backed chair with Stormwind lions engraved into it that pulled up to a little three-sided work station, in the far corner of the room.  Tanyth’s basket of supplies was the only thing in the world she truly owned- well, the basket, not the supplies- pretty little white woven wicker basket with colorful wooden flowers tapped onto its top edge. 

The room was decorated in much the same manner as most rooms in the Cathedral.  Stormwind blue- a _royal_ blue, if you would- was the most common theme, with the brilliant gilded lion outline of the House of Wrynn adding a dash of pizazz.  The rugs were likewise, royal blue edged in gold with warm wood workstations and bookshelves offset by the solid stone walls.  Of course in this particular room the bookshelves on the outside wall held bolts of cloth.  There was also a small alchemy station-slash-kitchen area where Shaina made salves, creams, and tonics.

On the left side of Tanyth’s walnut work station Shaina deposited a full bolt of wool and two spools of coarse thread, giving Tanyth a flustered look.  “Keep busy and-“

“-don’t forget to use the right prayers.”  Tanyth finished glumly, pouting.  That had been once!  One time!  Right after she had first arrived here!

Honestly!  Use the wrong prayers for a single set of bandages and everyone loses their minds!

It was actually pretty comforting to her.  The use of the Light to imbue bandages and such with extra concentrated healing powers.  While she was well aware that the ‘Light’ was merely a realm of power- part of the fabric of reality in this universe- the familiar churches, hymns, and general worship structure had helped her reorganize her priorities.  Well, she had found it rather easy to decide that the ‘Light’ was still a tangible force, and thus it was entirely possible that there _was_ a higher power- far removed from what could be accessed by someone like her- and that had rather neatly solved her crisis of faith.

Because the Light didn’t really respond to faith, so much as it did _conviction_.  It was a neutral force, the opposite of the Void, and it was up to the individual person to use the power of the Light in a way they believed to be right and just.  The Light was inherently calming and a restorative power- be it emotional, physical, or spiritual- but there was such a thing as being ‘too close to the sun’ and in all things there must be _balance_.

Shaina smiled- achingly fond and just a bit terrified- and reached out to cup Tanyth’s cheek, her calloused fingers warm and familiar against the younger girl’s skin.  “I know.  I _know_.”  The woman sighed, leaning down to press a kiss against Tanyth’s blondish-brownish hair before stepping back a little.  “But if the King or one of the Nobles thinks that you’re not earning your keep, they might send you away.  There are rumors that the Stonemasons haven’t been paid yet, even though the city is nearly finished and the Nobles are looking for any reason to slash funding.  Of course, you’d go to Northshire and the Abbey isn’t that far away from Stormwind but-”

Tanyth didn’t have anything against the Northshire Abbey folks, but she really didn’t want to be separated from the only family she had left.  It was Tanyth’s innate capability for channeling the Light that kept her from being sent to an orphanage or one of the Royally-sponsored training facilities.

Or the streets, even.

But still, Shaina was the only family Tanyth had.  Tanyth’s mother had died in the refugee camp just before they were to be relocated to Stormwind, and the rest of her family had met their fates in the Army or on the plains during one the Horde’s march to Stormwind.  So Shaina and Tanyth were all each other had left.

(In this life, anyways.  While usually there might be some serious angsting and grief, with all that she had been through since she had blinked awake and realized where she was…..well, she just didn’t have the emotional energy to spare for it.

But, yeah, _Azeroth_.  And given that Prince Arthas of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, Stormwind’s staunchest ally, was due to come strolling into the Cathedral to receive a blessing from Archbishop Alonsus Faol any minute now, she hadn’t even seen the worst of it yet.)

Tanyth smiled brightly at her caretaker and cousin before settling down to cut her work down to size.  While all the furniture in the Cathedral was high quality oak or walnut her table had fired stone mats with measurements carved into it laid out across the surface of the polished wood that made her job somewhat easier.  Besides the cutting was far more fun than the _sewing_.  Sewing meant making a thousand little stitches that had to be precise and efficient while also quietly reciting ritual prayers, singing hymns, and the like in order to infuse the bandages with the healing powers of the Light. 

It was among the first lessons a Priestess was taught and Tanyth was actually really good at it.  Abnormally good and she wasn’t even a Priestess, or even a true Acolyte, honestly.  It was her unusual talent for channeling the Light that allowed her to stay with her cousin.

Because Tanyth was _useful_.  And as long as she continued to be she wouldn’t suffer the fate of most fatherless orphans in Stormwind- the Stormwind Military Academy or the Arcane University of Stormwind.  Essentially a pipeline for the desperate to learn the skills they would need to sign up for the Army or in direct service to the Crown, at the price of signing up for a six year stint to be admitted.  Dropping out meant paying the Treasury back for their ‘investment’.

It was cruel, callous, and more than a little underhanded, but at least if they survived they would be able to make a living.

Or so the recruiting pitch went.

So Tanyth was a bandage maker at the Cathedral.  A defacto Acolyte until she reached the age of sixteen and was given the choice to commit to the Holy Order of Northshire Clerics.  The Order was going through a bit of an identity crisis at the moment.  The long held belief of the Order was that the Holy Light was, in fact, the ‘spirit of humanity’ and the Order’s mission was to ‘heal men’s souls so that everlasting peace might one day become possible’.  That ideology- which was centuries old- was hitting a brick wall against the Order’s need to use the Light to defend themselves against the invaders that had come through the Dark Portal.

And, as much as she was a person of faith, Tanyth wasn’t really excited about organized religion.  The organized part or the religion part.  In her experience the only things more oxymoronic than ‘organized religion’ were things like ‘free working holiday’, ‘gently used underwear’, and ‘fresh discount seafood’.

Her first section of cloth sectioned off properly, she hummed the tune of ‘Ode to the Light’ while she dug into her basket for her favored needles.  Wool was a rough fabric and to make the most of it she needed her mid-sized needles; easier to keep track of thataway.  Her fine needles she saved for silk, as it had a tendency to need twice the number of stitches to keep it from fraying.

Fraying silk was a major no-no.

Her attentions focused solely on her task she was a bit startled by the celebration bells- when the bells from _all_ the towers of the Cathedral rang out, instead of just the massive ‘main’ one- and she paused just long enough to watch the celebration of Prince Arthas’ induction into the Silver Hand.

The Order of the Knights of the Silver Hand being the Order that Archbishop Faol- one of the most respected Clerics of the modern age, and the Cathedral’s leader- had founded alongside his apprentice, Uther the Lightbringer.  The Silver Hand was an order of Paladins: men who were warriors more than Clercis; defenders who use the power of the Holy Light to drive back invaders.

The Prince of Lordaeron- the preeminent human kingdom; Lordaeron had taken in Stormwind’s refugees when the lower Eastern Kingdoms had fallen to the Horde- himself triumphantly marched down the center aisle, King Wrynn beside him like a proud brother, while the onlookers cheered with excited vigor.  The Prince’s newly bestowed blade shone with an unearthly light at his hip, and even Tanyth could sense the Light’s power emanating from the weapon, as far away and as many people removed from the Prince as she was.

 _‘I am reminded of that one scene with Bard the Bowman, ‘except an army of elves, it would seem’ right now.’_   She huffed a little as she straightened out her current piece and resumed stitching, humming tunelessly under her breath.  _‘There are enough people that it’s standing room only and I didn’t even notice the service being conducted!’_

Tanyth finished her latest roll of bandages, sealed them, and then placed them in the ‘finished’ basket before she pushed herself to her feet and began to stretch.  She scooted her chair back a little to make more room and slipped out of her slippers for better traction.  She grimaced a little as her legs grouchily reminded her that they were numb- she had a really bad habit of sitting on her knees in her work chair for a bit more height- but she pushed through the unpleasant sensation; well aware that Brother Joshua would make her and the other Acolytes run laps around the courtyard if they weren’t ready for sparring practice.  She was a bit hungry, but that was her own fault as she had skipped breakfast to watch the sunrise.

Ah, well.

**\--XXX---**

“Keep your guard up, girl!”  Brother Joshua barked, circling Tanyth and her sparring partner- Priestess Laurena’s little brother, Caleb- like an impatient magpie.  “I see another one of the boy’s attacks get through before Brother Sarno calls time and you’ll both be doing laps, you hear me!”

Tanyth half-heartedly blew her sweaty flyaway hairs out her eyes and grimaced at Caleb, who looked rather apologetic.  The sun’s light was nearly overbearing, as it was just past noon- which the Cathedral’s main bell tolled for- and thus the trees in the western courtyard of the Cathedral were yet to be of any great use.  With all the stained glass on the Cathedral itself, this courtyard got quite warm in the middle of summer.  At least they were practicing on the soft grass instead of the inside sparring ring.  The passing in that room was a joke- it was literally a sheet or something- and at least outside there was a _chance_ for a breeze.

No manner of sweet peacebloom scent made up for the scratchy feel of falling onto a patch of silverleaf.  That stuff felt like velvet and tended to act like poison oak if not washed off quick enough.  Technically it was supposed to only grow in the bricked-off gardens that grew around the trees and along the edges of the courtyard, but it had a tendency to drift.  Thankfully this courtyard didn’t have any mageroyal!  The thorns on the hardy, rose-like plants were actually slightly poisonous, not to mention stabby.

Brother Joshua was a _slave driver_.  He did not care in the least that she was in a linen dress, she learned to take a fall just like the others and when it came to sparring, Brother Joshua merely glared murder at anyone who was stupid enough to suggest that the female Acolytes didn’t need physical training.

His favorite line- “Even healers need to learn how to defend themselves, nitwit!”- was surpassed only by his terse- “What’s good is an untested shield, moron?!”.

Thus, midmorning sparring with Brother Joshua and the only other child in her age range, Caleb Paxton, who happened to just have turned eleven.

But she digressed. 

Caleb was rather tall for his age which put him at least a head and half taller than Tanyth, who was barely pushing the age of nine and rather….stunted.  That was bound to happen when one lived in the Stormwind refugee camps, before they were relocated to Elwynn, then Stormwind itself, so the camps could be repurposed to house the captive Orcs. 

The House of Wishock was not the most empathetic of overseers to begin with- they had overseen the camp Tanyth had been born in- and when their luxuries were threatened they felt zero shame in robbing their subjects to maintain their- perceived- deserved quality of life.  That last winter nearly a quarter of those at Camp Lordamere died from exposure; or at least a mix of exposure, disease, and hunger.  Being crammed between the shores of a lake and the mountains that encircled the Kingdom of Alterac would do that, when the people had little to nothing to eat and no protection to speak of.  The men had largely been off fighting for the Alliance- whether they wanted to or not- and thus at the end of the war, when the rebuilding was first happening and they were deposited in the camps to wait out the initial leg of infrastructure and planning stages, there was plenty of _celebrating_. 

Once Stromgarde and Gilneas left the Alliance of Lordaeron food shortages became even more commonplace than before, which was sort of a big deal as a large amount of people living in cramped quarters with little to nothing to do- because there was a surplus of people and while not willing to let them all die, the people of the Alliance of Lordaeron really had no use for them- meant babies.  Babies meant pregnant and nursing women in addition to squalling little bundles of joy.

So Tanyth’s growth was a bit stunted, despite her late mother’s best efforts.

Keeping her arms up- and oh man, did they ache!- Tanyth did her best to focus on Caleb’s tells.  While a much better fighter than her, the bronze-haired boy tended to twitch a little a second before he rushed her.

 _‘There it is!’_   Tanyth blocked his left arm, bringing her left fist down just below his elbow and pushing the arm away.  At the same time she shifted her stance back- putting most of her weight on her right leg for better leverage- and used her right arm to grab at his extended arm, throwing him off center long just enough for her to swat his badly positioned fist away and roll him to the left.  She went low, shifting her weight back to a more evenly distributed position and kicked his right leg out from under him, rolling with the movement and crashing into his back to make sure the miniature giant actually went down.

For once.

“Outstanding.”  Brother Joshua drawled dryly, sounding distinctly unimpressed.  “You’d better have a jaw made out of steel or simply hope that all your opponents will need to compensate for your _abysmal_ height to rely on that technique.” 

Tanyth crawled off of Caleb and gave him a hand up, getting a weak grin from her fellow tortured student.

“Again.”  Brother Joshua barked, military sharp.  “And perhaps this time _one_ of you two knuckleheads will get it right.”

Tanyth grumbled distinctly unkind things under her breath but settled into their taught fighting stance.  It seemed ill-suited for her and made her feel off balance, but Brother Joshua yelled at her if she didn’t start with her feet slightly too far apart and her arms raised- her left fist on the outside and her right closer to her body- so she persisted.

This time Caleb surprised her a little and she panicked, opening her left fist into a solid hand and nailing him in the crease of his elbow.  Entirely off-line and running on a hundred percent panicked instinct, her right fist cracked into the left side of his bony jaw.

Caleb recovered quickly and shifted forward, bringing his right fist towards her head.  Tanyth- still panicked and somewhat on auto pilot- ducked back a little, lashing out with her right hand to hold his right arm in place while her left fist streaked out and socked him square on the other side of the jaw.  His attack thoroughly disrupted, she twisted out of his reflexive grip, latching onto his wrist and bringing his right arm behind his back in a rather painful manner before she kicked the back of his closest knee.

Brother Sarno called time, but it was nearly drowned out by the sound of….applause?

“Well done!”  King Varian Wrynn boomed- it was sorta hard to mistake for anyone else, given she’d just heard it a few hours ago- and Tanyth immediately scrambled off of Caleb to drop into a proper curtsey, her whole face flushing in mortification.

The King’s boots came into view, along with another set of armored feet.  “Rise, children.  What are your names?”

Tanyth straightened up- still a bit out of sorts from the fight- and was grateful that Caleb- as a male and older than her- had to address the King and Prince Arthas first. 

“Caleb Paxton, Your Majesty.”  Caleb murmured, awe-struck.

“Tanyth, Your Majesty.”  Since Caleb didn’t address Prince Arthas directly, she didn’t either.  Caleb had more instruction on etiquette than she did, after all.

It was strange to see him….like she was seeing him.  Bright silver armor edged with gold with a royal blue cape tied off at the shoulder with the crest of Lordaeron.  The belt- well, waist decoration- was a huge lion’s head with a silver face and golden mane.  The armor shimmered in the midday light, making Tanyth guess that it was enchanted, even the leather undersides.  His moss green eyes were bright and firm, much like most of the other Paladins she had met and his blond hair was actually rather lovely, hanging around his face in choppy layers, held in place by his silver crown, and spilling over his shoulders at the back.  While the sword from earlier was still securely strapped to his side, the leather-wrapped handle of a truly formidable warhammer or claymore could be seen over the Prince’s shoulder.

King Varian was dressed much the same, really.  Royal blue fabric draped across his broad shoulders, the lion of the House of Wrynn cinching the garment at the shoulder while silver plate edge with gold met at the waist with Lordaeron’s stylized ‘L’ in gold upon a shield of silver.  Unlike Prince Arthas’ plain- comparatively- boots, King Varian’s knees were protected with smaller, but no less grand, lions.  His dark hair was as long as Prince Arthas’ but without the layers save for the bangs framing his gemstone green eyes, and he was clean shaven- no doubt for the event earlier.  He didn’t wear his crown, which was sort of odd but that was _really_ odd was to see him without his ‘trademark’ scar and it made Tanyth feel small, knowing what she did and yet unable to do anything about any of it.

Who would listen to an Acolyte with no father and no standing?

“Tell me, what do the two of you wish to do once you come of age?”  The King asked, his eyes intent and searching for something.

Searching for what Tanyth had no idea, but something inside her unfurled and crept up through her insides like ivy, seizing her with a bewildering amount of terror for such a simple question.

 _‘Get over yourself.’_   She tried to tell herself firmly, listening with half an ear as Caleb chattered about joining the Army.  _‘Just say something simple and be done with it.  You are not noteworthy.  Your answer is not going to alter the course of human history.  Idiot.’_

“-‘course Tanyth’s the special one.”  Caleb was saying cheerfully, slapping said girl on the shoulder and nearly sending her into the grass, headfirst.  “Everyone says so.”

“Is that so?”  The King answered, obviously indulgently, as he smiled down at the strained Tanyth and prompted, “And why do they say that, little one?”

“Oh. Um.  I make good bandages?”  Tanyth offered weakly, wondering if she could just melt into the scenery and be done with this strange situation.  Her stomach rumbled and she blushed even fiercer, ducking her head and mumbling an apology.

“Archbishop Faol always sends the upset babies to Tanyth.”  Caleb tattled eagerly, despite Tanyth spending a considerable amount of her energy trying to will the chatterbox to _shut the hell up_.  “Last month one of the Noble Houses tried to take her away from the Cathedral but Sister Shaina told them that only Her Majesty Herself could make her change her mind and let Tanyth leave the Church.”

“Is that so?”  Now the King was _definitely_ amused and Tanyth felt about an inch tall.   “But the baby whisperer still hasn’t answered my original query.”  The King’s left eyebrow quirked a bit and Tanyth really just wanted to _die_.

“Oh, um.  Well, I’ll probably be a traveling healer when the Cathedral turns me out.”  She managed, twisting her fingers together and wishing she was anywhere but right where she was.  “I’m not really serious enough for the Priesthood and I don’t really like being ordered around like a minion- eep!  I mean!”  Tanyth waved her hands about trying to make the statement seem less….bitchy.  “I just don’t think I’d be any good in the Army.  Or as a maid in a Noble’s house.”  She blurted out lamely, snapping her hands back together and smiling sickly at the King.  “So, traveling healer is my best prospect right now.”

“Hm.  I see.”  The King allowed, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown for a moment before he smiled and dismissed them.

Tanyth didn’t _purposefully_ trip Caleb on the last step before the outside landing, honest!

**\--XXX---**

Time went on in that timeless manner the Cathedral seemed to personify.  People came to be healed, weddings were held, some sought guidance, others merely came to the morning and evening worship sessions and through it all Tanyth’s routine stayed unchanged.

In the interim Tanyth had discovered her newest thing to passionately loathe: heavy silk bandages.

“Stupid frickin fraddled _bullshit_ -“  Tanyth mumbled lowly- far too low for anyone to hear, she wasn’t _stupid_ even if Sister Shaina and the others were currently in a meeting elsewhere- as she viciously stabbed her needle into her pincushion and dug out her seamripper.  “Miscount one freaking stitch and _fuck_ the whole thing up, stupid idiotic bandages and their stupid design-“  She grumbled as she neatly slit the last hours’ worth of stitching.  With more vigor than strictly required.

The crying of a baby bounced off the stone walls unpleasantly and Tanyth spared a prayer to the Light that it wasn’t the horrid monster-child of House Vanyst.  The wife was a shrill shrew named Karisa and the baby was truly the daughter of such a deeply unpleasant woman, as slightly ashamed as Tanyth was to think such of an infant.  Paisley was sweet enough when sufficiently removed from her mother, but otherwise the baby girl gave Tanyth _screaming_ headaches.

“Tanyth.”  Archbishop Faol’s voice was slightly swallowed by the size of the main hall, but Tanyth knew that _he_ knew she could hear him so she sighed, set her work down, and padded out the sideroom with all the cheer of a woman facing the firing squad. 

Once her slippers hit the runner that ran between the support columns and the hall itself, she paused, perplexed at what she was seeing. 

The Queen of the Kingdom of Stormwind was in the Cathedral’s main hall, near the pews at the front, her Royal Guard escort fanned out around her, keeping everyone else away from her area of the pews.  She was taller than Tanyth had believed, with bright, sky blue eyes, wavy blonde hair and a ready, if tired seeming, smile.  The Queen’s attire was a white and purple dress made of fine silk that seemed to float around her form, as stupid as that sounded.  She was also holding the angry baby that Tanyth had heard earlier.

Archbishop Faol’s pointed look at her dallying form had Tanyth shaking her head to clear her wandering thoughts and walking again.

“Your Majesty.”  She curtsied to the beautiful blonde woman holding the squalling infant once she was within range.  Once the Queen of Stormwind made a noise of acknowledgement- or at least Tanyth thought the woman did, but with the baby and the frantic mommy noises she wasn’t _absolutely_ certain- Tanyth turned expectantly to the Archbishop.  “You called for me, Archbishop Faol?”

The man’s pope hat made him seem tall, despite his rather short stature.  His white robes, edged in gold and threaded with both crimson and silver sigils, seemed to glow in an ethereal manner under the light falling through the windows.  His dark hair and brown eyes were kind, though, and his laugh lines a testament to the amount of time the Archbishop spent smiling when tending to his congregation.  The man gave her an amused quirk of the eyebrow, leaning heavily on his staff of office as he answered, “Her Majesty has heard of your skills with children and she wishes to avail Herself of your services.” 

There was a definite undercurrent of amusement there.

The Queen huffed and gave the Archbishop a flat, droll look.  “Alonsus my child has kept me awake for _three nights in a row_ with his teething fussing, if she can get him to take a nap I’m _stealing_ her.”

Tanyth smothered a quiet laugh and approached the Queen.  The baby stopped wailing long enough to peer curiously at her, so she smiled as wide as she could manage and held her arms out towards him.  Prince Anduin- for it could only be the future High King of the Alliance- seemed to inspect her, grabbing a hand with one of his tiny ones and pulling it towards his mouth to chew on.  Tanyth let him, coating her fingers in the Light- she never could use the tiny amount you were supposed to use when imbuing bandages, but she had plenty of practice channeling the energy-and then having to quickly catch the young prince when he decided that she was someone who was allowed to hold him.

The Cathedral went quiet, save for the shuffle of the staff and the baby’s delighted giggles at Tanyth’s silly faces as she paced, letting him gnaw on her fingers.

“Praise the Light.”  The Queen sighed gratefully, sinking down onto one of the pews while intently observing Tanyth entertain the young prince.  “We tried _everything_.”  She whispered to Archbishop Faol softly.

Entirely ignoring the quiet conversation between the Archbishop and the Queen, Tanyth enjoyed her new acquaintance with Anduin.  He had eyes three shades deeper than his father and a half shade brighter than his mother and his mother’s fair hair.  He was chubby and adorable and- oh, that was a sleepy blink.  Tanyth hummed, shifting the baby into a shoulder and letting his sleepy blinks taper out into full sleep before she gently pried her other hand from his grasp.

Baby Anduin was _criminally_ adorable.

Rubbing his back absently she made her way over to the Queen and the Archbishop.  “Here-“

“Oh no you don’t!”  The Queen hissed urgently, halting Tanyth’s attempts to give the baby back to her.  The blonde woman pointed at Tanyth almost accusingly.  “You’re coming with me!  Anduin’s _never_ taken to someone like that- he didn’t even take to _my mother_ that easily!  No, you’re coming with me and playing nursemaid.”  The Queen visibly restrained herself, smiled in a rather maniac manner, and amended, “At least for today.  I am _desperate_ for some rest.”

More amused than anything, Tanyth did her best to curtsey without disturbing the baby.  “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

The Queen gave Archbishop Faol a look that obviously meant something important- though its meaning went right over Tanyth’s head- before she smiled and gestured for Tanyth to follow her, the Royal Guard forming around them.

The walk from the Cathedral Square to Stormwind Keep took them along the canals that spanned the city, making the skirt the Trade District and then pass through the high end residential district of Old Town.  Tanyth did her best to look around while also not doing something unforgivable- like drop the Prince- and she was quietly impressed by the Queen’s unfailing grace.  The exhausted mother was stopped nearly a dozen times along the way to the Keep and never once did she complain or give the person a cold shoulder.  While the Queen heard her subjects Tanyth soothed the prince and appreciated the sheer _artistry_ of the builders.

The city was all blue-grey stone with the blue backed, golden lion banners of Stormwind opposite the banner of Lordaeron or one of the other Alliance kingdoms at every arch.  The walkways over the canals were tall enough to allow small gondolas to pass through without being excessive and there were small gardens edged with rock or decorative brickwork at evenly spaced intervals, with some areas having small mini-parks with benches as well.

“They must have poured their hearts into making this place home.”  She murmured as they passed into Old Town, having seen large parts of the city when it had still been largely ruined when she first came here nearly six years ago. 

The difference was…..breathtaking.

“Hmmmm?”  The Queen asked, her attention snapping to Tanyth like a shark scenting blood.  “What did you say?”

“Oh, um.  I said that the Stonemasons must have poured their hearts into their work.  To make Stormwind feel so alive.”  Tanyth clarified, feeling somewhat bold about her whimsical observations.  “I saw it when I came here right after the Cathedral was cleared for use and the difference is astounding.”  Tanyth shrugged as best she could with a drooling baby on one shoulder, feeling a bit self-conscious.  “People who build something like this- it’s not just a job, it’s a calling.  An art.  And that makes all the difference between yet another city of stone and a home worth fighting for.”  Tanyth then remembered that she was _lecturing_ the _literal Queen_ and blanched.  “I mean- uh-“

“No.  Don’t backpedal.”  The Queen told her firmly, laying a hand on Tanyth’s shoulder and looking past the guards at someone.  “Would you agree with that assessment, Edwin?”

What.  The.  Fuck.

Edwin?  As in _Edwin VanCleef_?

How was this Tanyth’s life?  She was a _bandage maker_ at the Cathedral of Light.  She was _nobody_!

“Sense is most often found in the ranks of the common folk.”  The man drawled, sounding tired but hopeful to Tanyth’s ears.  “I find the Nobles astonishingly disconnected from anything resembling _wisdom_.”

“I have to somewhat agree.”  The Queen replied somewhat wryly, smiling brightly instead of seeming insulted.  She smiled down at Tanyth, seeming exceedingly pleased.  “You’ll forgive me if I borrow that argument in the next session of the Council of Nobles I hope?”

Tanyth couldn’t help herself, she snorted a sardonic laugh.  “Your Majesty, anything that gets those pompous jerks to uphold their commitments makes me happy enough to dance a jig.”  Then Tanyth cursed her idiotic brain and sighed.  “Present company excluded, of course.”

The Queen laughed, wrapping an arm around Tanyth and dragging them forwards, waving at someone- Edwin, Tanyth guessed- as they passed them.  “You, dear, are a _treasure_.  I think I really might just keep you.”

**\--XXX---**

Being led through Stormwind Keep was an….experience.  Tanyth found- given the Queen’s chatter, which Tanyth suspected the woman was mostly using to keep herself awake- that the King was out, off settling issues in the territories.  As it was Saturday the Queen hadn’t needed to hold Court today, so the massive stone building was rather empty, save for staff and the occasional Noble or distinguished guest.

The Keep itself was rather formidable.  It was cut off from the city by a large section of the canals- much deeper, too- that drained out through a small metal grate.  There was a large, overlooking guard tower to protect the Keep from the Old Town side of things, and the canal runoff area served as a natural barrier, especially given the prime defense potion the archers on the Keep’s outer walls would have. 

From the city, the Keep was accessed via a thick wooden drawbridge that laid over the widening section of the canals that eventually pooled in the runoff area where the city’s wall dead-ended.

Once through the massive stone archway Tanyth was greeted by two stone staircases that curved around a neat little courtyard with benches and a small collection of trees, wildflowers, lush green grass, and a happily burbling fountain.  The intimidating, cool stone of the keep was broken up by trailing ivy, banners, and random waterfalls of plants with bright blooms.  It was rather confusing, is pleasant, sight as there were no visible windows in the massive structure.

 _Weird_.

The doors of the Keep were wide open, though pairs of guardsmen could be seen in every corner, with more pairs patrolling the areas above the two guard towers on either side of the wide open doors.

Stormwind Keep’s interior was decorated much the same as the rest of Stormwind, with the banners of Stormwind interspersed with the banners of the kingdoms that had stood by her in her times of need.  Lordaeron was most prominently honored, but even Gilneas and Stromgarde’s banners held places of honor along the long hallway- that had plenty of side rooms- to the throne. 

The throne room itself was a circular room with thick wooden doors leading off into various side rooms, the gold and blue throne of Stormwind’s King the most prominent feature, situated beneath yet another, even more grandiose, intricately embroidered banner.

The Queen led them into the leftmost door- the one with the Royal Banner, the official House of Wrynn crest boldly emblazoned on the purple material- and up a dizzyingly amount of stairs with at least three left turns and into the family wing.

“This is Anduin’s nursery.”  The Queen informed Tanyth as they entered a wide, open room about halfway down a hallway that dead ended at a truly beautiful set of oak doors.  “The maids- ah!  Good.”  The woman twirled around, placing her hands on her hips and giving Tanyth a truly exhausted smile.  “There’s a daybed in here so I can get some rest.” 

A redhaired woman came into view from behind a panel of silken curtains. 

“Ah, good.”  The Queen gestured to the newly arrived woman, who gave Tanyth a shallow bow, much to the girl’s confusion.  “Tanyth meet Hollyanne Taylor, Captain Jonathan Taylor’s wife and Anduin’s nursemaid.  We just call her Holly, though.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Tanyth.”  Hollyanne greeted Tanyth respectfully- which was way weird.  “I am extremely grateful that the prince seems to settled peacefully.  All the rest he’s gotten the past week has been troubled.”

“It’s just Tanyth, Lady Taylor, and I’m happy to help.”  Tanyth chirped, eying the Queen suspiciously.  “I think we ought to get Her Majesty to bed before she collapses, though.”

“Excellent idea, I’m going.”  The Queen fussed, glancing back towards Anduin several times.

Tanyth huffed a laugh and walked over to the daybed and gently laid the prince down next to his mother.  Anduin began to fuss as soon as Tanyth let go of him, but quickly settled down once she began to rub his back and hum softly.  She was a bit uncomfortable, down on her knees beside the daybed, with one arm braced against the frame and the other soothing the prince, but it was worth the discomfort to see how the Queen relaxed at having her son nearby her.

The Queen spared the girl an indulgent, warm smile.  “Definitely keeping you.”  She murmured, curling around her son and patting Tanyth’s bracing arm affectionately.

Tanyth answered with a smile and continued to hum softly.

**\--XXX---**

Her knees ached, her legs were numb, and she had a major crick in her back.  At least Anduin seemed to be happy with her just rubbing his back with a Light-covered hand so she didn’t have to keep humming.

Holly, seated on a chair nearby, smiled sympathetically at her.  “If it’s any consolation.”  The older woman informed her softly, her voice pitched low enough to not disturb the Queen or the Prince.  “I don’t think I’ve seen either of them sleep so soundly since they came to the Keep.”

Tanyth kept up her ministrations, checking on the little prince’s breathing to make sure everything was alright, before she turned curious eyes to Holly.  “They haven’t always lived in the Keep?”

“Oh, goodness no!”  Holly laughed softly, her hands clasped together neatly on her lap.  “With the King off consolidating territories Queen Tiffin spent her pregnancy and most of the first three months afterwards in Lordaeron, she and Princess Calia grew up together, much like King Varian and Prince Arthas.  Princess Calia has several years on Queen Tiffin, of course, but they are still quite close.  Calia delivered Anduin mostly on her own with support from the Old Castle’s healers.”

“The Old Castle?”  Tanyth queried, wondering where she had heard that before.

“Oh!  That’s what Lordaeron’s Keep is called, dear.  It’s one of the Keeps that is rumored to have been built by King Thoradin himself, back during the times of the Troll Wars.”  The woman lifted a silk covered, delicate shoulder in an unconcerned shrug.  “At any rate it’s rumored to be the oldest keep in the Eastern Kingdoms, though there are those that dispute that claim.”

“Huh.  Neat.”  Tanyth chirped with a smile.  “I was born in the refugee camp near Alterac, so I never stepped foot inside, but we could see the keep from across Lordamere Lake.  The banners were always really pretty against the sky.”

Holly went to respond, but Anduin grunted in his sleep and both of the awake females knew that sort of grunt.  “I’ll set up the changing station.”  Holly told Tanyth with a grin, leaving the younger girl to wrestle the boy out of the Queen’s grip.

“He just needs changed and probably fed, Your Majesty, I’ll bring him right back.”  Tanyth murmured quietly to the mostly-still-asleep women, receiving a barely-there nod and a sleepy acceptance for her efforts.

The changing table was actually rather nice, all things considered.  At the Cathedral Tanyth just had to make do with any flat surface and her bag of supplies.

While there was indoor plumbing of a sort in Stormwind, chamber pots and the like were still very much a thing.  Which meant that Tanyth had the (un)enviable task of manually scraping off the solid waste before placing the soiled cloth diaper in its proper receptacle.  If it sounded gross to hear about, it was even grosser in person.  Quickly washing her hands in the provided basin- which was quickly whisked away by one of the maids- she cleaned, powdered, and wrapped a clean diaper around the little Prince, cooing at him through the smell of baby poo.

Baby poo was its own special band of gag worthy.

Once that bit of unpleasantness was over and done with- and her hands were cleaned again, much to Holly’s amusement- Tanyth handed Anduin over to the nursemaid.  Tanyth had been at the Keep long enough for morning to give way to the afternoon, so the chances of the baby being hungry were pretty high, in her opinion.

One he was fed, burped and back with his mother the women resumed their chatting.  The maids brought in some finger foods and Tanyth was so grateful she could have hugged them.

“So you are a Ward of the Church, then?”  Holly asked Tanyth around a cracker laden with sharp cheese and a couple slices of red apples.

“Not really, I live with my cousin, who is a Sister of the Association of Clerics.”  Tanyth grinned at the slightly blank stare she got in response to that answer and hurried to explain, despite her shoving a cracker of her own into her greedy mouth.  “The Cleric Order is different from the Priesthood ‘cause they don’t do field work.  Sister Shaina is a First Aid trainer- one of the best in Stormwind- and she happens to serve at the Cathedral, so I live there.”  Tanyth shrugged and gulped down some apple juice before hastily adding.  “I almost don’t make the cut to be considered ‘family’.  Sister Shaina is my Mama’s sister’s daughter.  The Order only recognizes first cousins, anything beyond that has to be a direct apprentice instead of a dependent.”  The girl grinned wryly.  “I make bandages to earn my keep, but I don’t think it’s my life’s calling like Sister Shaina, though.”

The woman seemed troubled.  “Excuse my ignorance, but I thought that the bulk of the displaced citizens of Stormwind settled in Southshore?”

“Only the actual citizens of the old city.”  Tanyth explained gently, wondering how in the hell the woman hadn’t known that.  There had been at least _seven_ camps for the displaced people from all the territories affected by Stormwind’s fall at the hands of the Orcs, all ruled over by one of the Noble Houses.  “My family was from Westfall originally.  Farmers and tradesmen, cloth- tailors- mostly.  We weren’t…err, ‘desirable’ enough to settle in Southshore, so we ended up in a camp.”

The other woman seemed pained, but Tanyth just shrugged and helped herself to more food- as best as she could one-handed, the other one yet again soothing the young Prince.  It was ancient history by now for all it had made a major impact on her outlook on life.

The other woman seemed even more saddened by Tanyth’s easy acceptance of such a fact and the two lapsed into silence.

Given leave to ignore the need to make polite conversation, Tanyth looked around.  The room was rounded, with wide, arched windows draped with sheer curtains.  From the outside Tanyth hadn’t seen any such windows, so there must be magic or sleight-of-hand trickery happening.  The room was quite baby friendly, full of sinfully soft plush rugs and a rather bewildering amount of toys.  The ceiling had grooves in the stone that she assumed were actually small tracts for the gauzy curtain-divider thingies, like the one by the Queen’s daybed.  There was a fat support pillar in the center of the room, tastefully disguising the fact it was also a storage cabinet- she had seen the maids grab supplies from it earlier.

All in all it was open, breezy, and rather calm.  Cheerful even, given the golden and blue mini-banners suspended from the ceiling. 

A bit much for a toddler but then again this was Prince Anduin’s nursery, so.  Yeah.

**\--XXX---**

When the Queen woke the sun was shining orange through the clear glass, staining the polished areas of the floor deep red and burnt amber.  Tanyth had been getting worried, she had never missed evening service at the Cathedral and she didn’t want to worry her cousin.  And no matter how practiced she was at full days of channeling the power of the Light, she was beginning to tire.  She was nowhere near dangerously exhausted, but she was weary.

And her knees were bruised, she was pretty sure, despite one of the maids bringing over one of the sinfully fluffy plush rugs for her to kneel on during one of Anduin’s changing-and-feeing times.

“Ah-huhhn.”  The Queen yawned, still seeming tired but a bit refreshed from her nap.  She blinked slowly, levering herself up onto her arms, her bright eyes fixed on her son for a long moment before she looked up.  “You’re a miracle worker……dear.” 

The Queen looked as if she was struggling with something and Tanyth took pity on her, the woman had been absolutely exhausted earlier.  “Tanyth, Your Majesty.”

“Tanyth!”  The Queen repeated, bringing up her free hand to rub at her face, disturbing the kohl around her eyes.  “I knew that.”

Tanyth laughed softly, clasping her hands together and seeing if Anduin would protest.  “Of course, Majesty.  Was there anything else?”

The Queen’s gaze snapped around to Tanyth with startling intensity.  “You can’t leave _now_!”  The woman bargained desperately as if she wasn’t the most powerful authority in the Kingdom, save for the King himself.  “You’re my lucky charm!”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever been called that.”  Tanyth returned, dry as the sands of the Barrens.  She was well aware of her penchant for messing up, requiring her to start over on projects.

Like _bullshit_ heavy silk bandages.

“Well that’s your new title.”  The Queen returned rather grumpily, her smeared makeup making her seem much more a mortal woman than her earlier flawless poise. 

“I took the liberty of sending your cousin a message earlier, Tanyth.”  Holly broke in with a smile.  “She won’t be expecting you back at the Cathedral tonight, and-“

“-I’ll send her a message or go talk to her tomorrow, so that you can retrieve your things.”  The Queen finished tiredly, rubbing at her eyes and making herself look more like a raccoon.  “You really are Lightsent, Tanyth, I thought I was going to go completely insane and I felt so helpless seeing my baby suffer like that.”  She ran her kohl smeared hand over Anduin’s back, smearing black onto his blue outfit by accident.  “Damn it.”  She cursed as she moved her hand away, the black streaking into Anduin’s light, baby peachfuzz hair.  “I need a bath.”

“One is being prepared as we speak, Your Majesty.”  A new voice broke in, and Tanyth looked over to see a stern, dark haired woman in a crisp, pinstriped uniform, the seal of Stormwind on the left breast.  On the shoulder there were other patches, but Tanyth didn’t recognize any of them.

“Thank you, Lorelei.”  The Queen sighed gratefully, placing Tanyth’s hand back onto Anduin’s back when the baby began to fuss.  “To the baths with us.  Lorelei will get you something fresh to wear to dinner and then we’ll call it a night.”  The Queen swung her legs over the edge of the daybed and booped her son on the nose, the baby having rolled himself over while she had been talking. 

He seemed content enough, so long as Tanyth’s hand was on him, which meant the Queen had plenty of opportunities to interact with the happy baby.

“Yes, I think I’ll just have us sleep in my rooms for the night.”  The Queen decided, picking up her son and seeming pleased as punch when Tanyth allowed Anduin to gnaw on her Light-coated fingers. 

The woman led them out of the nursery and down the hall a few rooms to the biggest, most extravagant bath Tanyth had ever seen- in either life.  It was made of white and blue stone and was pretty much room-wide, with stairs and water jets- Tanyth wasn’t sure how _that_ was possible, but whatever- and deliciously steamy.

“Tomorrow, perhaps, I can have the Archmage and the Archbishop over.  Maybe they can rig a teething ring or something so you don’t have to constantly allow him to chew on you.”  The woman rolled her eyes quite expressively before beginning to shimmy out of her clothes.  “The Noble Ladies would have a fit.  Heaven forbid the Prince act like the baby he is.”  The mother snorted derisively and chucked her clothes into a nearby basket before stepping into the large bath in the middle of the room. 

Tanyth laughed, a soft release of air that was largely drowned out by the water rushing from the taps.  There were so many bubbles; they even changed colors.  Tanyth was deeply jealous.

The Queen cracked an eye open and gave Tanyth a distinct look.  “Well, what are you waiting for?  Hand my baby to Holly and strip, kiddo.  It’s bath time.”

Having long grown accustomed to communal baths, Tanyth handed over Anduin- who glared suspiciously and began to whine- and shucked off her linen dress, slippers, and undergarment before embracing the ridiculous swimming pool the Queen called a bath.  She felt ridiculously happy with a crown of bubbles on her head and paddled over to the Prince and Holly when they entered, though she kept the Prince from chewing on her.

The glorious bath didn’t seem to take nearly as long as she wanted, but soon enough she was scrubbed clean- by a maid, despite Tanyth’s protests- dressed in a comfortable, simple white cotton dress and ushered to dinner.

It was after they arrived that Tanyth was unceremoniously reminded why she had wanted to stay far away from the Keep and the Court.

Lady Katrana Prestor smiled unpleasantly sweetly when the Queen asked her to move down a spot to make room for Tanyth.  Her starless sky black hair shone blue under the flickering lights of the chandeliers and her ocean blue eyes anything but kind and understanding.

Very carefully Tanyth did not allow herself to react, but inside she was freaking the fuck out.  _‘That is one of the nastiest Black dragons to ever exist and now she knows my name!’_   To compound Tanyth’s terror, there was an itch underneath her skin, an annoyingly persistent one that tugged at her attention and made her clumsy.  She spilled a glass of apple juice and nearly screeched like a scalded cat the one time Katrana touched her arm to get her attention.

By the time dinner was over Tanyth had a pounding, shrieking headache and was barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

So she didn’t see Queen Tiffin’s eyes narrow in suspicion, nor did she notice that Lady Prestor noticed Queen Tiffin spotting Tanyth’s reaction to Lady Prestor’s presence.

Tanyth would regret her lapse in judgement for the rest of her life.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


	2. Chapter 2

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Anduin was an adorable, happy, content baby…….so long as Tanyth was nearby.

Much like arcane spells, every person who channeled the Light had their own, unique ‘flavor’ once the energy passed through them.  Hence why not all Light practitioners were all carbon-copies of whoever taught them.   The Archmage and the Archbishop were working on making a toy or teething ring that would hold Tanyth’s Light.  While the bandages did that, they were only good for about twelve hours after breaking the arcane seal, so the two men had to find a way to extend the shelf life, so to speak. 

As the issue was one that scholars had spent entire lifetimes studying it wasn’t exactly something that was solved overnight, so Tanyth had spent the past three weeks with the Queen, as Prince Anduin’s favored chew toy.

They spent most of their time in the Queen’s drawing room or the nursery, with Holly as a constant shadow.  At night Tanyth slept beside Anduin’s bassinet, being shaken awake every few hours by the Queen to recharge his stuffed wolf toy with her Light. 

Holly, on the other hand, seemed to be content to let Tanyth entertain the Prince unless he needed nursing, and spent most of her time knitting or in quiet conversation with the Queen.  When the Queen laid down for a nap, the actual nursemaid would bring Tanyth books to read, to help pass the time.

History written by the Stormwind historians was a rather fascinating thing to read.  Even if it made the jumbled mess of previously-known lore that lurked at the back of her mind scream at her.   Tanyth wasn’t a fan of how the Orcs were treated by history- she’d gone Horde after Burning Crusade dropped- but given her place in the timeline, the propaganda made sense, even though it was distasteful.

So it wasn’t all work, but it _was_ a teensy bit annoying to have a human-shaped growth permanently attached to her, despite his adorableness.  It also made Tanyth feel bad whenever Anduin would cry while she relieved herself or something, mostly because it made Queen Tiffin upset and Queen Tiffin was _amazing_.

The woman was wonderfully patient and understanding, yet had a wit sharper than diamond.  Her knowledge of the realities of economics was unmatched by any of the Nobles that visited her to complain and by this point in their acquaintance Tanyth had found herself comfortable enough to offer up suggestions whenever the Queen talked to herself aloud in her private rooms.

Mostly to vent after a particularly annoying guest.

“Yes, but I think you’re thinking of this a bit too linearly, Your Majesty.”  Tanyth answered the Queen’s quandary with a grin, rolling a brightly colored, magically treated ball around on the plush carpet beside the Queen’s desk to entertain the crawling, giggling baby Prince.  “Liquid coin is all well and good but it’s not the only method of payment available.  There’s land rights- most of the workers are displaced, like me.  So giving them land rights would be reasonable compensation.”  Tanyth quirked a brow at the pondering woman.  “There are also tax deferrals, incentives- Westfall could use a port, yeah?  Easier to move goods along the coast, Redridge is completely cutoff by mountains along the sea, isn’t it?  And Duskwood is landlocked.  Stormwind city is huge, but her port can only handle so much traffic at a time.”

“Hmmm.”  The Queen tapped her lips with her finger while her other hand drummed out a rhythm on the leather padding of her chair.  “The Treasury would suffer for a few years, but we’ve anticipated that loss.  With the possibility of an open port.”  The Queen sighed, seeming to wilt a little in the late afternoon light streaming in from the open balcony doors.  “The land in Westfall is largely useless for farming, though.  It will take _decades_ to properly reshape the land.”

“Well, yeah.”  Tanyth replied easily, cooing at the Prince and grinning when he decided to chase after one of his other magic toys, happy as a clam.  “But it’ll take _longer_ without people working it, helping heal it.  You could plot out most of Westfall to the Masons and then fund an initiative there.”  Tanyth almost suggested Druids, but weren’t the Night Elves still largely cut off from the world at this point?

Anduin smacked the foamy star with an open palm, causing it to float up and dance in midair, much to his delight.

Tanyth smoothed down her linen dress, readjusted so she could sit cross-legged, and smiled up at the Queen.  “I mean, steadings that they own free and clear, then money to work the steadings with the possibility of deferred or reduced taxes- as they would cross boundaries to sell them, most likely- and possibly some work making a port for Westfall itself.  Sure, it’d be expensive but surely it wouldn’t cost Stormwind any more than what we’re already paying to try and import all our food and goods.  If nothing else, cotton is a hardy plant.  I imagine it would grow decently enough, giving the land some time to get used to being used, and then Stormwind would have goods to barter with if it was made into clothes and the like.  And if they were made locally, that would generate some positive traction for Stormwind’s economy here at ground zero.”

The Queen glanced over at Tanyth for a moment, startled, before she started making notes on spare bits of parchment.  “We _do_ have funding for fostering Stormwind’s sustainability, if I add some orders for storage buildings for the artisans and give the general laborers land options and incentives we could pay the skilled workers properly in liquid funds….”

Seemingly dismissed- and feeling rather chagrined for imposing her opinions of the literal Queen- Tanyth went back to playing with Anduin.  The chubby baby was quite insistent on putting everything he touched into his mouth, and even with Holly nearby- she was knitting something or other near the door- Tanyth felt a teensy bit of stress, given the baby’s importance.

Anduin eventually grew bored of his magical ball that changed colors and clambered over to Tanyth, summarily grabbing ahold of her braid and gnawing on it with great relish.

“If you weren’t so darn cute.”  She muttered as she tried to reclaim her braid and tempt Anduin into a game of peek-a-boo.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

A month after Tanyth had been pseudo-abducted by the Queen the King returned, and the Queen was so excited she decided to meet him at the city’s gates.

It kicked the Keep into a flurry of activity and Tanyth had found herself gamely following in the Queen’s wake, the Prince pacified with a stuffed animal bearing Tanyth’s Light signature for the moment.  Tanyth wasn’t precisely sure _why_ she had been dragged along-  the animals would store her signature for most of the day- but she hadn’t argued.

The procession was slow and the day just hot enough to be unpleasant in the sun, though there was plenty of shady spots along the way.  Still, there seemed to be a disproportionate amount of people out and about and shouting and the trip through Old Town and then the Trade District seemed to take forever and a day.

The view would have been pretty and interesting had she been able to appreciate it, but they were being hemmed in from all sides, and so all she could see were the…..thighplates of the Royal Guard and the backside of their tabards.  About the time they reached the gates- well the dead-end, massive wall that forced people through two small, u-shaped pathways- they ran into the King’s party.

And it was loud.  Stone amplified sound and _ow_.

Tanyth tried to stay back, but Anduin dropped his lion- which was then trampled and lost in the crush of people pushing at the Guard’s line of defense- when the Queen stepped forward to greet the King and Tanyth didn’t want the baby to start wailing in the middle of the entrance to the city, just as his father came home from a campaign. So she stepped forward and pressed her hand to Anduin’s back, letting the Light flow through her.  It was an awkward hold, so she was half holding the Queen’s arm, but the woman in question didn’t seem to mind, as she tossed Tanyth a grateful smile before she went back to fussing over her newly-returned husband.

The King didn’t comment but he did glance at his wife, who merely shook her head lightly- in classic ‘I’ll tell you later’ wife fashion.  Shrugging a little- though it was difficult to tell with his massive shoulder pauldrons, the man slipped an arm around the Queen’s waist, leaving the Prince between the two parents.  Poor Tanyth was left to trail behind them somewhat awkwardly, but she went largely overlooked.  After a short while- after his wife whispered something to him- the King readjusted enough to allow Tanyth better purchase and a slightly less awkward position for her shoulder.

Tanyth was grateful up until she realized they were apparently going on a tour.

 _‘Do they have any idea how big this stupid city is?’_  She groused to herself through a strained smile, swearing it had been at least an _hour_ since they had met the King at the gates and they still hadn’t made it through the Trade District yet _.  ‘This is bullshit.  I object!  I wonder if I could just sneak off….’_

Tanyth would never be more grateful for her self-imposed sense of duty to the Queen as she would in the next few moments.

The crowds turned, from pushy and mostly celebratory, to angry and demanding.  The Guard shuffled them towards the canals and they had just left the archway exit of the Trade District when they met another angry mob, this one armed with rocks.

The King tried to speak, but even his voice was lost from out and under the sea of outraged voices.

Tanyth had just flexed her fingers, trying to keep feeling in hand she was having to hold above her head, when she felt a rush- no, a _flood;_ like melt roaring down the mountains to Lordamere Lake in the spring- of the Light.  The usually smooth flow of the powerful energy surging and twisting urgently, as if it were reacting to a threat.  It was too much, even for her, who was more naturally attuned to the Light than most, and she wavered between _too-much-can’t-take-anymore-make-it-stop_ and _just-a-little-more-just-a-little-please-please-please_ for a moment that seemed to stretch and warp into eternity before there was only-

**\--XXX---**

- _darkness_.

Not comforting darkness, but the cold, cold kind that was a league past ‘this isn’t funny anymore’ on a Halloween night.  This darkness made her insides seize and her eyes water from sheer, primal terror.  Tanyth didn’t know where she was- who she was.  Was she still Tanyth or had she started over again?  Surely the life wouldn’t be that cruel, right?

Shakily staggering to her feet she trudged through the inky, black, ankle-deep water into the oppressive darkness, her lips trembling and her eyes producing enough tears to fill a river, but still she moved forward.  Her chest was strangely still- as if had forgotten how to take in air.  The frigid, unforgiving, stagnant air merely hovered mockingly just beyond her parted, quivering lips.  How was she moving- surviving, existing- if her body was so petrified with fear?

(Had she ever been this cold before.  Felt this hopeless?)

Because what she meant when she said that the darkness was oppressive, she meant truly _despotic_.  No pinpricks of light in what should be the sky, no moon or candles or lanterns or light-

Wait.

She could _see_ the waves lapping at her ankles.  Could see the impact her tears had on the face of the waters so where-

 _Oh_.

She looked down at her chest in confusion. 

The source of the light…..was her?  Why was she lit up like an offbrand, fiber optic Christmas tree?

Heh.

(Christmas.  Carols and snow and trees and playing with the fire in the fireplace and warmth- so much warmth- and grief, but a controlled grief, a measured one.  One that made the vivid colors of redemption and promise so much more real, so incredibly breathtakingly wonderful.)

The light grew brighter, reaching out tendrils that wrapped around her arms and crept down her legs.  Like roses on a trellis the light wove, blended, and bred.  It slithered past her fingertips and pushed back at the waters lapping against her bare feet.  The darkness thickened and closed in around her, but her eyes remained solidly fixated on the bright sparks of brilliance that were protecting her and, unbidden, her mind recalled a hymn.  Ahymn from far before she was Tanyth, belted out in a voice that held no real talent but fairly resounded with conviction.

_(High King of heaven, my victory won,)_

It was beautiful and ridiculous.  She laughed, reveling in the lines of golden light staining her skin and feeling nothing but joy in knowing that the light persisted, even in this realm of darkness.  The golden brightness seemed to dance under her searching fingertips and she laughed brightly, ignoring how the greedy darkness swallowed up the sounds of joy, making them seem flat and dull.   This was the Void, she knew without knowing, deep inside the Void, far beyond balance or caution.  This darkness was not meant to be traversed lightly.  It spoke only of primal fear and wholesale anguish.

_(May I reach heaven’s joys, O bright heaven’s sun!)_

But still, she laughed.  Celebrated the brilliance of the sunfire threads that pushed back against the desperate darkness that sought to consume her.  Her conviction powering it, the vivid brightness warred against the grave-cold chill that tried to silence her.  The burning brilliance helped her cope with the taste of death-decay-fetid flesh that settled sour on her tongue, and the horror that gripped her throat with skeletal, miserly fingers made of pure, unadulterated terror.  She felt fear, desperation clawing at her but she shielded her gibbering mind with her conviction.  Her deeply held belief that this darkness would never tame her spirit, even if her flesh was pathetically weak against it.

_(Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,)_

The darkness seemed to seethe, furious that she would dare laugh when faced with its presence, but that only made her laugh louder, more certain that ever that the comfort of the light would never abandon her so long as she refused to wholly submit to the darkness.  

_(Still be my vision, O Ruler of all!)_

For what felt like a hundred hundred years she trudged through the oily water., looking for something- anything- that would help her find her way back.  She ignored the tentacles, the eyes in the deep blackness beyond the waters and refused to answer the terror that seemed to have wholly arrested her form.  She stumbled and she grew weary, but her faith always renewed.  Always comforted her in her darkest times, sometimes despite herself.  Staring up at the not-sky she _rejoiced_.

_(And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love.  But the greatest of these is love.)_

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth gasped, as if she’d been holding her breath for a stupid amount of time, reflexively struggling against the hands that came to hold her down.

“-nyth.  Tanyth calm down!”  Sister Shaina was shouting.  Though she sounded far away, as if she was at the other end of the Cathedral.  The main hall was notorious for muting noises that didn’t come from the raised platform at the end, where the Archbishop usually conducted services.

Tanyth tried to blink and was immediately suspicious of how much concentrated effort the action took.  She allowed her heavy eyes to stay closed for the moment and slowly her usual brain functions came back online and she began to notice things.  _Stuff_.  Surroundings. 

Like the fact that she was in the Cathedral, in the Healing Rooms, on one of the wool-blanket cots.  If the itchy, thin blanket that her hands were fisted in wasn’t enough proof the overwhelming smell of lye soap badly mixed with the scent of mageroyal on the threadbare sheets and thin mattress definitely would. 

Why was she here and not in the dorms with her cousin?

Tanyth cracked an eye open, pleased but somewhat confused to see that it was full dark outside. Pleased because she had a screaming headache and the sunlight would have been murder on her gritty, aching eyes, but confused because she could have _sworn_ it was light out just a minute ago.

“Ah, there you are.”

Tanyth blinked- though it wasn’t nearly as difficult this time- and slowly managed to get her neck to cooperate enough so she could see the Archbishop, who was sitting in a hard backed chair to her right.  A glass was pressed to her lips, the Archbishop raising her head slightly with his unoccupied hand, and it was only then she realized just how thirsty she was.   She greedily gulped down the liquid, mostly ignoring the Archbishop’s admonitions to drink slowly.

She whined a little when he pulled the glass away, half-full.

“That’s enough for the time being, I think.”  Archbishop Alonsus Faol informed her with a small smile, seemingly ignoring her glare.

If her arms didn’t feel like they weighed as much as a blue whale she would have just grabbed the dammed thing herself, but her body was…..heavy.

“You have been on the razor’s edge of…..death for nearly a fortnight, child.”  The Archbishop’s kindly tawny eyes had dark smudges under them, and his dark chestnut colored hair was free of its confines under his pope hat for once, making him seem more like an average Priest than Stormwind’s highest ranked Cleric.  “Do you remember anything of what happened?”

Tanyth, her right cheek still pressed to the pillowcase, tried to muster up the strength to speak.  “Um.”  She articulated eventually under the Archbishop’s patient stare.  “Sunrise.  I watched the sunrise from the bell tower.”

“Hm.  Yes.  You regularly ignore your elders’ cautions against that.”  The Archbishop didn’t seem angry though, mostly amused as she settled back against his chair and crossed his arms over his white-clad chest.  “Do you remember nothing of Prince Anduin?  The Queen?”

Tanyth squinted a bit and tried to think, only for information she was searching for to slip through her metaphoric grasp.

A wash of the Light rolled over her and she looked up at the Archbishop, who was withdrawing his hand from her head.  “If you do not remember, that is fine, child.  Don’t try and force it.”  The man crossed his arms again and gave her a slightly pleased, but worried stare.  “I will try to explain-

_Alonsus looked up at hearing rushing steps and shouting from outside the Cathedral.  He was alarmed when the King came bursting into the sanctuary, holding Queen Tiffin in his arms._

_“She’s bleeding, Alonsus!”  Varian howled at the Archbishop, but Alonsus had known Varian his entire life and could see the terror, the fear of losing Tiffin, in his eyes.  His son was wailing in the arms of his red-haired nursemaid, and the guardsmen quickly cleared out anyone who wasn’t staff from the Cathedral itself._

_Hurrying over and leading the young King to the Healing Rooms, then into one of the private Healing Rooms, the healer set to work healing the Queen._

_It took hours for him to fix the damage to the Queen’s head, but thankfully whatever had hit her had just barely missed the temple.  It was still a head injury- and a fairly serious one at that, with tendrils of Void magics that had struggled bitterly against Alonsus’ concentrated efforts- but the Queen would recover._

_It was only after he had exhausted himself healing Tiffin that he realized that there was another patient._

_‘Oh, by the Light, no!’  Alonsus thought as he hurried over to his friend’s child.  “What happened?”  He demanded, as evenly as he could, to the Priests who were attending young Tanyth._

_“Whatever hit the girl wasn’t just a simple rock, Archbishop.”  Priestess Laurena managed, her fair brows knit together in intense concentration as her shield tried to contain the Void energies trying to consume young Tanyth’s form.  The problem was that Tanyth was fighting back and that made the Void energies try and escape to find a more pliable subject, hence Priestess Laurena’s shield.  “I’ve never seen Void energy so directed before!  So determined and persistent!  Not even a curse!”_

_One of the Royal Guards stepped forward, offering some clarification.  “Prince Anduin has been..err….”_

_“I am aware of Prince Anduin’s teething troubles.”  The Archbishop managed somewhat calmly, his attention mostly focused on the catatonic girl- no.  Wait.  She was unconscious, but she seemed to be struggling against something; her eyes moved rapidly under closed lids and her muscles twitched as it she was trying to shift underneath an incredibly heavy weight pressing down against her.   The oily energies trying to sink into her small form seemed to be battling against something, and Tanyth was the one doing the resisting.  “I would like clarification as to how this happened.”_

_“A riot broke out, sir.  Just outside the Trade District.”  The Captain of the Royal Guard was much more succinct than his underling,  “It all happened very quickly, and before we could so much as blink that one-“  Here he paused to point at Tanyth.  “-lit up like midday sun.  When I could see again the Queen had fallen into the King’s arms and the girl was unconscious, that….stuff wrapped around her.  Archmage Malin arrived shortly thereafter and took possession of a piece of rock….it was black as night, with some sort of….living writing on it.  Somehow it was contained in a sort of…hard shell made out of the Light, but a piece of it looked broken off.  The Archmage opened a portal to Cathedral Square and took the girl with him while we made for the Cathedral on foot.”_

_Alonsus was deeply concerned by the report.  Was this attack the work of warlocks seeking to keep Stormwind in chaos- chaos meant limited governance, after all- or something even more sinister?  This smacked of the sort of tactics Cho’gall had used with that cult of Void-worshippers as well- but he and his cult hadn’t been seen since the end of the war!  And did young Tanyth purposefully react or did the Light merely use her as a vessel?  And what did this mysterious rock have to do with anything- was it a spell, a curse, or merely a chunk of uncontrolled Void power intended to sow discord and turmoil?  What would have happened had Tanyth not been present at all?_

_Or worse yet, had someone figured out the girl’s parentage?  Had Tanyth been the object of the attack all along?  There were terrible rumors of a new cult forming in the upper Eastern Kingdoms, one that preyed on those disillusioned with the Holy Light. War always left behind those who were easy prey to the honeyed promises of and nothing good ever came of such things.  There was very little concrete information on this new, emerging threat other than hearsay and dark rumors.   Alonsus did his best to keep news of Tanyth’s talents from being widely known, but if this new cult was looking for young practitioners with a strong connection to the Holy Light and probable cause to be dissatisfied with past wrongs……._

_Oh.  Oh dear._

_Suddenly the Cleric hoped that this was merely the work of a small coven of disaffected warlocks merely trying to sow discord._

_While a firm believer in the Light, Alonsus was very aware of the fact that the Light and the Void were somehow connected.  Linked.  The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows.  Which meant that the Holy Light’s staunchest defenders could become its most bitter and devastating foes._

_Where the Holy Light dealt in matters of the heart, the Void dealt with the mind._

_Many Shadow Priests were driven mad by delving too far into the Shadows- the outer edge of the Void, as they were considered- for to truly understand the Void was madness in action.  But there was something else, something much darker than just the Void itself that lingered in the depths of darkness beyond the boundaries of the physical realm, and it was that taint that he sensed in the energy trying to consume young Tanyth._

_No matter the answer, this development was deeply disturbing and he would need to seek counsel from his peers on the matter._

“- for nearly two days we kept watch, but there was little we could do.”  The Archbishop told Tanyth calmly.  “Then, on the third day just as the sun appeared on the horizon, the energies trying to consume you- well, shattered.”  He smiled and reached out to pat Tanyth on the head, his weathered hands gentle as he fussed with her hair.  “Not the same as they had been, but not quite cleansed either.  Ever since then you have been resting peacefully, your young body exhausted by the struggle.”  The Archbishop settled back and leaned his chin on an upraised hand before adding.  “Archmage Malin took the….shards back to the University.  Hopefully he and his students can offer up some answers soon.”

“Huh.”  Tanyth slurred eloquently, her tiredness beginning to win against her desire for an explanation.  “I think…..maybe….I sorta remember fighting.”  She blinked once, twice, and then a third time.  Each blink much heavier than the last.  “But…the Light was with me.”

“As it always will be, child.”  The Archbishop agreed quietly.

He said something else, but Tanyth had already fallen asleep.

**\--XXX---**

You know, she had been _completely fine_ before this existential crisis shit landed in her lap. 

Her plan had been simple: learn to heal, heal people, avoid zombies.  See?  Simple!

It had barely been a week since she had felt like herself again- almost a whole month after the incident with the rock- and she still didn’t remember much about the Queen or Prince Anduin, though it was slowly coming back to her.  Tanyth had been perfectly content to dwell on _maybes_ and _what-are-you-an-idiots_ while making bandages, patiently waiting for the day she could leave Stormwind behind.

She wanted no part of the Army or the Court’s ruthless backstabbing habits or to be considered beholden to a King.  She wanted to heal, see some sights, _maybe_ live long enough to see a Draenei in person.

That was it.  Simplicity itself.

Now-

“Can you repeat that for me, please?”  She asked her cousin with a strained smile, her hands frozen over yet another batch of bandages.

Her cousin flicked a nervous glance at the doorway and wrung her hands in the front of her uniform.  “I said you need to go pack your things, Tanyth.  Lady Katrana Prestor has petitioned the King for your custody, and the King- he _granted_ it.”

Tanyth wanted to do anything _but_ allow that sequence of words to rearrange into a coherent sentence.  Absorbing them meant understanding that the _King_ had sold her off to _Onyxia_.  Because that was one part of the lore she never got confused by- Lady Katrana Prestor was Onyxia of the Black Dragonflight’s human form.

The Black Dragonflight was one of five Dragonflights whose leaders- the Dragon Aspects- had been empowered by the Titans, back when Azeroth had been battling against the Old Gods’ Black Empire.  The ‘Old Gods’ were actually servants of the terrifying Void Lords- creatures of gluttony, misery, and anguish that dwelled in the deepest recesses of the Void- sent to sort of terraform plants, in the hopes of corrupting a powerful world soul-developing Titan.  The Void Lords had to try and infect a developing world, as a matured world soul would resist them.

In the end the Titan-forged Keepers- because the Titans themselves were massive metallic beings, born of a world’s ‘soul’; thus necessitating the need for Titan-forged Keepers; smaller-than-them servants forged to carry out their will- imprisoned the Old Gods deep underground.  Azeroth was a ‘developing’ world soul- not every planet had one- and the nasty Old Gods had sunk their claws _just_ deep enough into her- Azeroth’s- growing awareness that destroying the Old Gods would mean destroying Azeroth as well.  Destroying a developing world soul was an anathema to the Titans- who were themselves world souls, albeit matured ones- so they ordered the Old Gods be imprisoned instead.

That was like, a zillion years ago or something.

Slightly more recently- like ten thousand years ago or some shit- the Old Gods corrupted the Aspect of Earth, Neltharion.  As the Aspect charged with ensuring that conflict was avoided for lack of resources or lands, he and his flight had the most contact with the Old Gods’ prisons.  Over time the fiends managed to corrupt the cheerful, benevolent, wise, and well-liked Aspect.  He became known as ‘Neltharion the Earth-Warder’. 

During the War of the Ancients- when the Well of Eternity went kablooey and blew the original Titan-shaped continent of Kalimdor apart- Neltharion betrayed his fellow Aspects and became the reviled entity known as Deathwing, the ‘Aspect of Death’.  Not an inaccurate title, given that Deathwing had nearly singlehandedly destroyed the flight of his close-as-a-brother Aspect, Malygos, the Aspect of Magic. 

Deathwing, as he was known afterwards, had two prominent children who stepped up to fill the void left after he was banished from Azeroth.  Well, Huln Highmountain banished the corrupted Aspect with an artifact made by the Titan who had originally powered Neltharion, sending the Aspect into a different plane known as Deepholm. 

There were several planes that were technically a part of Azeroth but required special circumstances to access. 

At any rate, Nefarion and Onyxia were left as the defacto leaders of the flight after Deathwing’s disappearance.  They were ruthless, more than a bit mad, and _very_ feared.  They also had inherited their father’s charisma.  Their natural likability paired with the Void’s ability to influence the mind…..well, it was rather easy for them to manipulate people.  Especially when they could forge items to help ‘ease’ the resistance their ‘recommendations’ faced. 

In the lore it had always been assumed that the Stonecutters Guild- the ones who had rebuilt Stormwind- had accidentally caused the death of Queen Tiffin via a misplaced rock during a riot, but given how much control Onxyia-Katrana Prestor managed to exert over Stormwind afterwards, it sort of made sense that there might have been more to the ‘freak accident’ than first assumed.  The fact that the King had fallen into an impossibly deep depression, regulating his duties to his two most trusted advisors- Katrana and a man named Bolvar Fordragon, who wore an amulet that allowed Katrana to essentially control him- was sort of damming too.

And Tanyth was supposed to go live with Onyxia-in-human-form.

 _Lovely_.

“Tanyth, I know you’re upset, but you mustn’t keep your escort waiting.”  Shaina’s voice brought Tanyth back to the present, her eyes uncertain as she added, in a whisper.  “And it might be for the best.  I know you haven’t had the easiest time around here since….since you came back.”

Staring dully up at her caretaker the girl wondered what she was supposed to do.  It wasn’t like she could just accuse one of the King’s favored councilors of being a _black dragon_.  And her reputation was a mix of cautious awe and outright fear at the moment, thanks to whatever had happened while she was asleep after the riot incident. 

Being known as someone who survived being plunged deeply into the Void would do that.  Most everyone- even Shaina- were wary of her.  Always cautious and on guard around her, fearing that she would suddenly turn ‘evil’ and start….doing evil things.

Or something.

“A-Alright.”  She heard herself say, setting aside her needlework and smiling weakly at the distressed Shaina.  Tanyth felt the need to reassure her cousin, so she firmed up her smile, let her eyes close into happy crescents, and pretended as if she wasn’t walking to her own death.  “I’ll be sure to come say hi whenever I can, ok?”

Shaina smiled tremulously, pulling the other girl close for a quick, tight hug.  “Be sure that you do.  I’ll miss you, little cousin.”

Tanyth held tightly to her cousin’s uniform- it smelled of herbs and Light and soap- and tried to engrave this moment into her memory in all the detail she could manage.

Tanyth had a feeling she’d need the comfort in what was to come.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Three hundred and five days.  Three hundred and four nights.

Tanyth ignored the way her cotton dress soaked up the rain.  She ignored how the stone streets tore at her slipper-clad feet.  She ignored the shouts of surprise, the guards, everything that wasn’t the next step towards the Cathedral.  She careened into an archway and slipped in a puddle, but she shook those pains off and kept running.

She didn’t stop until she was in front of the Archbishop himself, soaking the red carpets of the Cathedral with blood-laced water.

Without waiting for him to ask she blurted out the whole story.  The starvation, the ‘training’, the nights in the wine cellar with the Lady.  Tanyth explained the whips used in her ‘reeducation’, how they burned without fire and lanced without frost.  How Lady Prestor was careful and kept her _just_ exhausted enough that Tanyth didn’t have the energy to heal herself.  The dark things that lurked in the shadows of her closet room just off the her personal torture chamber.

The Archbishop’s eyes blazed with fury and he laid his weathered hand on her head, swearing to her that she was safe.  That she would never be forced to go back.

The Sisters led Tanyth to the baths and a few hours later Tanyth was tucked in beside her cousin, safe and secure for the first time in nearly a year.

But it wasn’t to last.

Ripped awake just after dawn by the Royal Guard, she was shackled and gagged like a common criminal before being marched- the long way- through the city to the Keep.  Once there the King had reprimanded her, tore her to shred in front of God and everyone for her ‘lies’ and ‘slander’ and he had coldly proclaimed that it was only ‘Lady Prestor’s infinite mercy’ that saved Tanyth from being thrown into the lowest level of the Stockades for the rest of her miserable life.

What came next was the part that _broke_ her.  For then the King turned to his Queen- _Tanyth’s_ Queen- and it was Her Majesty who had coldly announced Tanyth’s punishment.

Public lashing.  Twenty-one times. 

The guards dragged her sobbing, begging, struggling form back through the streets, to the stone monolith outside the Stockades.  They bound her hands to the brass ring imbedded into the stone, forcing the short girl to hang awkwardly, far too short to sit on her knees yet slightly too tall to stand in the slippery sand that surrounded the punishment center.

It wasn’t just sand, either.  It was a mixture of sand and salt that gathered on the whip on every lash and then embedded itself into the oozing wounds the torture device left behind, multiplying the pain beyond what she had known she could possibly endure.

By the fifteenth strike Tanyth couldn’t hear the jeering crowds anymore.  No longer cared about the filth being thrown at her as the sectioned, spined whip curled twice around her and snapped taut in the center of her back.  Hysterically she was grateful that it wasn’t a traditional whip with broken glass imbedded into it, but it still hurt like nothing she had ever experienced. 

Not even from her Lady’s _personal_ attentions.

She passed out at some point, and when she awoke she was back in her prison.  Three hundred and five marks on the wall, blood in her mouth, fire across her entire back, and a distinct sense of betrayal seething in her chest.

Tanyth- exhausted, betrayed, and feverish- turned to the opposite wall and made a mark.  Her fingers fumbled the small piece of stone she used to scratch tally marks into the walls, but she eventually managed.  No sooner had she finished, the cloth in front of her small place of rest was ripped open and Lady Prestor’s personal manservant leered down at her, his smile full of teeth and his eyes alight with perverse amusement at her plight.

“Rise and shine, little one.”  The brute of a man crooned cruelly.  “Time for your morning lessons!”  His smile sharpened into something even darker.  “And you know what happens if you dare to be late.”  Then he laughed- short, mocking, and cruel- and sauntered off, leaving her to try and lever her abused form up and upwards.

She crawled.  It was all she could manage.  But she swore, as the cloth on her back pulled, cracked, and tore at her skin, that she would persevere.  That she would bide her time and find freedom again and this time-

This time she wouldn’t bother trying to expose the septic underbelly that throbbed beneath Stormwind’s pretty streets.  This time she’d _run_.

And she’d never look back.  She owed Stormwind _nothing_.

**\--XXX---**

“Oh! Please excuse my useless ward’s _clumsiness_.”  Lady Prestor cooed to the wine-drenched Bolvar Fordragon, before the woman turned and snapped at the exhausted servant who had spilled it.  “Tanyth!  Go fetch Bolvar and I another bottle of Elwynn wine!”

“Yes, my Lady.”  Tanyth gritted out through clenched teeth, struggling to her feet and doing her best to swallow down a sob.

She had had a lot of practice in the past two years.

Prestor Hall was in Old Town, though it had originally belonged to a different Noble House.  Tanyth had no idea whom- and she truthfully didn’t care, either.

The smartly polished dark wooden walls accented the dark marble flooring well enough.  The red accents- whether jewels, stone, or paint- made the place seem more like an elegant home than a villain’s lair.

 _‘On the surface, at least.’_  Tanyth thought with an internal snarl, letting herself into the hidden door to the kitchen and then turning left through another door that led to the wine cellar.  Her breath hitched against her will as she climbed deeper, her mind telling her to run.

She smiled bitterly, moving a few bottles of dark-colored wine around to select a companion bottle to the one she had spilled.

Tanyth had run before.  She had fled to the Cathedral, scars on her back and wounds still dripping blood.  She had run straight to the Archbishop and had told him _everything_ \- the mind games, the ‘training’, the beatings.  And he had healed her, had healed her and _promised_ her sanctuary and she had thought that she was _safe_.  That her waking nightmare was _over_ and that maybe the King would investigate and find out the truth.  She had fallen asleep beside her cousin, safe and sound for the first time in over a hundred miserable nights but then-

The tears, thankfully, had long since dried up when she remembered what came next.

How, the morning after, she had been ripped from her bed by the Royal Guard.  Escorted like a criminal- in chains and gagged even!- across the city to the Keep where the King had publically and ferociously reprimanded her.  Condemning her for scorning the kindness of Lady Prestor, for being ungrateful and spreading ‘false accusations’ against a member of the Nobility.

That.  That had been difficult enough.  But then-

_Then he ceded the floor to his Queen- Tanyth’s Queen- and it was Queen Tiffin who- who-_

_“I expected better of you.”  The Queen said, her blue eyes cold as the peaks of Northrend and twice as cutting.  “You who has so much compared to others.”_

_The Queen turned away from her, dismissing Tanyth’s presence as if Tanyth wasn’t worth her notice at all, and the guards tightened the gag in Tanyth’s mouth when the girl tried to scream.  To explain, to expose- but she was unsuccessful._

_“Twenty lashes, I think, my King.”  The Queen ordered coolly, as if she was commenting on the latest fashions instead of suggesting a public punishment.  To someone who had literally saved her life.  Her son’s life!_

The King assented, supporting the Queen’s suggestion for Tanyth to be flogged in the front of the Stockade like a common criminal before telling her how fortunate she was that Lady Prestor in ‘her infinite mercy’ was willing to take Tanyth back.

Tanyth had learned her lesson about the truth of Stormwind’s loyalty to her people in blood, tears, and agony.  If she had thought her ‘punishments’ were painful before, after the Incident they became a twenty-fold worse.

Because-

After being paraded through the streets in chains and flogged in front of a jeering crowd, no one even looked twice as Tanyth limping to market.  Nor did they seem concerned about bruises or her extreme lethargy.  In fact they seemed to _enjoy_ having someone at their mercy, and she was regularly slammed into things on ‘accident’ or jeered at as she went about her assigned errands.  There were even some who took great pleasure in throwing filth- rotten fruit and other things- on her, knowing that she would be punished for dirtying Lady Prestor’s property.

Because Tanyth was a criminal, and therefore owned nothing.  Not even her own, threadbare clothes.

Onyxia reveled in it.  Tanyth’s suffering.  The woman seemed to delight in each new way she chose to break Tanyth- from shearing off her hair to drawing blood and tears from the girl- to prove to Tanyth how _insignificant_ she truly was- how much power Onxyia had over whether Tanyth lived to see the next sunrise.  How _little_ anyone would care that the ‘benevolent Lady Prestor’ had finally rid herself of such a troublesome, ungrateful ward.

_The first night back set the tone for how the next seven hundred and twelve would go.  With Onxyia-Katrana secure in her power over Tanyth the beatings went from painful-but-marginally-tolerable to agonizing.  Or whatever word was four degrees more wretched._

_“Not so special now, are we?”  The black-haired woman sneered, pacing a circuit around Tanyth’s bleeding, restrained form in the secret room under the wine cellar, the leather whip trailing gently over the girl’s most recent injuries in a perverse sort of caress.  The woman had ordered her beastly manservant to heal Tanyth of her earlier lashing and training session’s injuries purely to ensure her ‘ward’ was in proper condition for their ‘nightly reeducation lessons’,_

_Tanyth panted as tears dripped down onto the cold- so very, very cold- shackles that held her in place.  The glowing, sickening blackish-purple script that twisted and crept along the floor of her personal hell always grew brighter the longer she resisted, as if somehow the living Void script was enjoying Tanyth’s resistance._

_“The worst is yet to come, little one.  Submit and the torment will end.  All you must do is renounce the Light and then I will teach you things- you will have power, power beyond your wildest dreams!”  The laugh at the end of the statement was more than a little insane, and when Tanyth glanced through her fringe she could see the sickly, purple Void energies twisting around the beautiful woman’s form.  “Foolish, insufferable girl!  Your precious Light has already abandoned you, don’t you see?!  Your beloved Archbishop is the one who returned you to me!  You cousin has publically and formally forsaken you!  Your precious Queen betrayed you!”_

_Tanyth was weary.  So very weary.  And alone.  It would be so easy to just give in.  She could find her way back, right?  The Light would forgive her and then she could do something about Onyxia’s schemes.  She could get justice for herself and so many others of she just played along.  She could get revenge, unmask the dragon and laugh at her face for knowing who she had been denying all along.  It would be so sweet.  So satisfying.  Just a few words and-_

_“No.”  Tanyth croaked out through battered vocal cords, tears slipping out of her bruised eyes as she warred with herself.  She didn’t even have the strength to raise her head anymore.  “The Light abandons no man.  Not even-“  Her breath hitched and fresh tears spilled down her face, hot and shameful.  “-not even here.  Not even me.”  This time, when the whip snapped sharply, leaving a searing, white-hot agony blazing a line across her exposed back, Tanyth embraced it.  Embraced the pain and sorrow and suffering because it meant she was still winning.  That she was still_ herself _, still resisting._

The pain, the beatings- supposedly ‘training sessions’ in the yard every afternoon with one of Lady Prestor’s guards; a show to cover up the nightly ‘behavior correction methods’- and the rage on Lady Prestor’s face whenever Tanyth refused to submit, that was what comforted her.  It consoled the fears of her weary mind to know that so long as Lady Prestor was expending effort to break her, Tanyth was still enduring.

She would overcome this.  Someday.

Her arms trembled with exhaustion as she carried the bottle of wine up the stairs, bypassing the judgmental stares of the other staff members- _they_ adored their Lady and felt she could do no wrong; despising Tanyth for all the attention Lady Prestor paid her- and making her way back to Lord Fordragon and Lady Prestor.  Tanyth knelt by her Lady’s side, biting back a gasp as her abused back pulled unpleasantly and her limbs burned from weariness.  “Was there anything else you require, my Lady?”

“No.”  The woman dismissed breezily, black tipped nails waving Tanyth off unconcernedly.  “You are dismissed.  For now.”

Tanyth didn’t have the strength to do more than murmur her assent and push up from the floor.  But she knew the smirk aimed at her back, and the unspoken words that hung like a noose around her neck.

It was the same.  Every night when she was dragged out of the pathetic closet she called her sanctuary in the wine cellar and into the secret room-

_“Let’s see if we can’t change that attitude of yours for the better, little Tanyth.”_

**\--XXX---**

Midsummer always brought with it a huge festival, doubly so that year as it also marked the first anniversary of the Stonemason’s Guild coming to an accord with Stormwind in regards to the rebuilding efforts.

Tanyth didn’t even have the energy to properly scoff at the irony of what could have been.

What _would_ have been.

What was especially important was that Lady Prestor had been placed in charge of a great deal of the organizing, along with the Queen.  Being in charge a crucial social event in addition to her other duties- not to mention her extracurriculars- meant that Onyxia was getting _sloppy_ in regards to controlling Tanyth’s every waking moment.

Tanyth was grimly aware that she would have only a single opportunity to seize her freedom, and if she bungled it death would be far preferable to whatever awaited her back here in Stormwind.

So she watched.  She watched and she planned and she _prayed_.

The day before the festival, her opening presented itself.

Tanyth wasn’t allowed at the Stormwind docks nor was she allowed to leave the city.  The docks were extraordinarily busy, making it easy for a short, anonymous girl to blend in.   Elwynn Forest held plenty of people who were less than beholden to the Noble Houses and likely sympathetic to a sob story.  Katrana knew this, and thus Tanyth wasn’t allowed in either area, and most of the normal guardsmen were well aware of this fact.

_“I could care less if you’re allowed or not!  Here’s a note of permission and the money!”  The unpleasant woman screamed in Tanyth’s face, yellowed teeth inches from the girl’s nose.  “It’s Katrana’s fault we don’t have everything arranged properly anyways.  If I had been placed in charge we would have gotten these supplies weeks ago!  Well, why are you still standing there! Go, you stupid girl!” The woman shoved a fairly nice, enchanted backpack at Tanyth, brimming with the payment for the dock workers to release a shipment needed for the celebrations._

Tanyth rose and sedately left the well-appointed planning room at Prestor Hall- Lady Prestor was absent; personally overseeing decorations being placed around the city- her head down and desperately trying to conceal her anticipation.  She wove through the stone streets of Stormwind in her customary ragged, threadbare attire drawing looks of contempt and revulsion from anyone who recognized her.  A few people who were especially taken with Lady Prestor even threw rotten fruits at her, but she had long grown numbed to Stormwind’s opinions of her and kept her eyes on her feet.

Once upon a time the weight of so many stares would have made her weep.  Now, they only fueled Tanyth’s intense loathing for Stormwind and her petty people.  Even the beautiful stonework of the city, the atmosphere of celebration, and the cheerfully colored roof tiles did nothing to make her want to stay.

Stormwind could _burn_ and her people with it for all Tanyth cared.

(Or so she told herself.  Anger allowed her to move forward, but even she was aware that, above all else, the treatment she had endured the past three years _hurt_ her more than anything.  She loved Stormwind, it just…..wasn’t mutual.  Not right now, with Onxyia’s magics sunk deeply into the Court and the people of Stormwind so easily swayed by the alluring and popular Noble Lady’s dramatic lies.)

Tanyth was stopped by three guards on the way out of the city proper to the shipyard, but she had a legitimate errand _and_ a note from Lady Wishock, so she was reluctantly allowed through.

Reaching the dock, she made the delivery to the Dockmaster and then pretended she had another delivery, her hand clenched around the canvas strap of the backpack, to the point her knuckles ached.  She looped around, back through to the city and made it a point to walk past at least one of the guards who had stopped her earlier.  Then she waited around a corner until a group of slightly inebriated partygoers came by, and she slunk alongside them, back towards the docks.

Once there she scanned the area, looking for a ship that seemed like- ah.  A ship with a goblin crew!  And it looked like they were getting ready to leave.  Goblins liked money above all else, as a general rule and-

Well.  Lady Wishock had a terrible sense of money management.  Tanyth’s bag had held more than thrice the amount she actually needed.  And that was just the gold pieces.

 _‘Breathe, Tanyth.  Just breathe.’_   She told herself firmly as the stonework gave way to the wooden docks, her dodging and weaving hopefully keeping her from sight of anyone who would recognize her.  Tanyth resisted the urge to look behind or around her; resisted the urge to hyperventilate because she felt starved of air from fear; resisted the urge to break out into a run or sit down and sob her heart out.

No, Tanyth kept her head down and kept putting one foot in front of the other.  The sea winds had never smelled so sweet, despite it being the height of summer.

“Hey, whadya want?”  A goblin asked her rather rudely, once she sidled up closer to a ship that seemed to be in the process of leaving.  The being was just a head shorter than she was, with wide-spread, pointy ears, green hued skin, and sharp looking, white teeth.

“Passage.”  Tanyth replied promptly, turning towards the goblin with a sharp grin, full of teeth.  “ _Double_ the usual fare for your discretion.”

The being raised a nonexistent eyebrow- so he basically just wrinkled his forehead weird- and shrugged.  “Cash up front.  Thirty gold.”

“I said double, not triple.”  Tanyth argued, quickly steamrolling through with an added, “But if you get me on board and make it look natural I’ll slip you ten gold the Captain doesn’t have to know about.”  She did her best to smirk confidently.

“And if I’m the Captain?”  The greedy little bugger asked with a salacious grin.

“Then you get forty gold.”  She replied cheerfully.

“Deal.”  The being agreed with a wide, toothy grin, stepping aside and leading her up a board of flimsy wood serving as the boarding ramp.  “Now, if you’ll just follow me we can make the exchange and be on our way.”

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> There's a character introduced whose story seems...circumspect. Please bear with me! In a couple chapters we are going somewhere you (hopefully) won't have seen coming! (And, theoretically, will enjoy!)
> 
> ―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth squashed herself into a small area where the wood had rotted out behind some smelly fish barrels in the cargo hold, her well-paid goblin shifting barrels around in the front and then piling some canvas sacks- they were as tall as her goblin accomplice and half as wide- on top to make the scene seem legit.

It was only then that she realized that she hadn’t asked _where_ the ship was heading, which only added to her stress level.  It was quickly approaching critical mass, too.  Being kept prisoner and on the razor’s edge of collapse for the better part of three years would do that to a person.

Who knew?

Her back was on fi _r_ e, and tears of pain made their way down her cheeks despite her best efforts.  Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her canvas bag was stuffed between her body and her legs.  The wood was scratchy and smelled like….well, moldy fish.  Or maybe truly pungent cheese.  It was dark as a starless night in the hold, and her stomach threatened to rebel at the not-so-gentle motions of the boat. 

Of course, that might have also been from anxiety.  Or the smell.  Or the suffocating, moist heat pressing down against her.  Maybe all of the above.

While well-hidden, she was also _trapped_.  The barrels were far too heavy for her to move- they were at least three deep- and the sacks above her might as well be full of rocks for how heavy they were.  If the goblin got a better offer from someone trying to find her……

_‘Don’t think about it!’_   She ordered herself sternly, burying her sweaty face into the bag’s canvas.  ‘ _Just breathe!’_

It felt like an eternity passed before the ship began to do more than bob gently, moored to the dock.  With an almighty groan and some far-off calls and bells, the ship began to slide through the waters of the sea.  It was far from a gentle ride, and Tanyth hoped like hell the barrels were tied together securely enough to keep them from squashing her, but the more the ship picked up speed, the easier it became to breathe.

Speed meant more bumps and poor Tanyth was soon being jostled around enough that the hope for sleep was impossible.  The cargo might be secured, but she was not!

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew she was vaulted into full consciousness by her legs sending her displeased distress signals.  It took her a few moments to remember where she was, and by then her partner-in-crime spoke up.

“Ay.  It lives!”  The goblin informed her cheerfully, shuffling a few things around while Tanyth tried to get used to being able to move again.  “Listen, toots, we’re headed for Ratchet.  It’ll take us another week to get there.  Now, since I’m so nice, I’m even gonna feed ya!  Ain’t I nice?”

Tanyth opened one eye just a slit and gave the cheerful idiot a glower.  “No, you’re an opportunist.”  She stated flatly, arching an eyebrow as best she could while feeling like…..well, whatever the fuck she felt like at the moment.  Twice tenderized roadkill?  She felt like she was breathing soup; _rotted fish soup_ at that.  “But I am also an opportunist, perhaps we could come to an agreement?”

That reminded her- she was on a ship bound for who-knows-where and she had _no supplies_.  Not even water.  What the hell kind of shitty escape plan was this?!

Oh, right.  A _desperate_ one.

The goblin belted out a boisterous laugh, going so far as to slap his knee repeatedly.  “You’re not too bad, kid.  For a human I mean.”  He wiped a tear away from his amethyst eyes and gave her a slightly friendlier smile.  Which looked a bit weird on his angular face.  “Hadda coupla crewgoblins take, ah, _issue_ with their cut of the booty.  So they’re feedin’ the fish and I’m in need of some extra hands.  You in?”

Tanyth felt a jolt of terror before she reminded herself that she had spent that past three years with a black dragon trying to break her.  Goblins might be thirsty as hell, but they honored their agreements.

Mostly.

She hoped?

“So long as I’m allowed to leave, free and clear, once we get to Ratchet.”  She said slowly, trying to find any loopholes that might come back to bite her in the ass.  “With _all_ my possession intact, save the gold I paid you.”

“Deal!”  The goblin replied easily, reaching out a large hand- it swallowed her smaller one entirely- for her to shake.  “I’m Captain Jezlack, and this here’s my lady, the _Golden Gear_.  Now get up, you’ve got work to do.  You can leave your precious bag in safe in my cabin.  Crew has their own, but you’re not crew so you don’t get one.”

Tanyth rolled gingerly to her feet- hissing a bit at the pins-and-needles sensations she was getting- and ambled after her tiny new boss.  He took her up two sets of stairs- they were on opposite ends of the ship from one another- and then across the deck into a wheelhouse.  There was a goblin in there, but the Captain didn’t seem to be in the mood for chatting, so Tanyth barely got a good look at him.

After stashing her bag in the Captain’s private quarters, she followed him back out and around, down another set of stairs that led to what looked like living quarters and a communal dining area.

“Ey, you freeloaders.”  The Captain called out to the small cluster of goblins at the table- Tanyth counted five.  This here’s, ah-“

“Tanyth.”  She answered promptly, before she immediately wanted to smack herself.  _‘Why did you give them your real name, you idiot!?’_

“Uh, yeah.  That’s what I said.”  The Captain continued blithely, waving a hand about dismissively.  “Anyways, she’s our new cleaning person.  Show her where the buckets and the prayer books are, the deck needs swabbed _yesterday_.”

Then he turned on his heel and left.

“Here, newbie, I’ll show ya where the supplies are.  Just don’t go hittin’ on my man, got it?”  One rough looking goblin with pink hair and several piercing said as she pushed back from the table and gestured for Tanyth to follow.  “I’m Kretzel.  Nice ta meetcha!”

“Um.  Sure.  Thanks?”  Tanyth was totally confused.  How old did this chick think she was?  Why in the world would Tanyth want to steal someone else’s lover?

Tanyth wasn’t really functioning at full capacity at that point, it should be noted.

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth was pretty sure she was being cheated in terms of work versus payment, but with every day putting her further away from Stormwind she still felt like she was winning.

Without Onyxia’s nightly lashings and the daily pummelings disguised as ‘training’ her body was starting to gain some ground against her injuries.  That had been part of the program, exhausting her to the point she could barely move.  To make her curse the Light and to make her feel helpless.

It had been easy for her to work out their motives.  What had been difficult was trying not to give in despite knowing what their game was.  She did not like pain or being the object of public scorn and ridicule.  Truthfully most of her willpower after her first attempt at escape was pure and potent spite, not faith.

But, whatever works, right?

_‘If it’s stupid but it works, it ain’t stupid.’_

Her clothes were worse for the wear, she was sunburned on all her exposed areas of skin- mostly her arms- and she smelled _awful_ , but she was certain that by the time they made it to Ratchet she would be mostly healed.  From her Onxyia-Lady Prestor wounds, that was; the Light was at its core a restorative, healing power and with her no longer hovering near death’s door it was actually making progress in mending her.  Good to his word, she was given food and fresh water in exchange for her tireless efforts in cleaning the ship.  Much to her pleasant surprise after being wholly isolated, her goblin shipmates weren’t half bad company!  Ao long as she was out of the blast radius whenever they decided to ‘experiment’.

And, after the first day on the deck, she had only tossed her cookies overboard once!  She had sea legs!  Rawr!

Laughing at herself a bit, she hummed lightly as she scrubbed at the wooden deck, her bundle of wet rope with netting wrapped around it making for a rather decent scrubber.  If she could get the aft section cleaned today, tomorrow she could actually swab the deck which would earn some of her coin back.  Not much, but since it would help ‘improve business’ and was a bit beyond what had been expected of her, she would be paid.

_Cha-ching!_

“Yo, kid.”  The Captain called, causing Tanyth to swipe her forehead clean with the back of a soapy arm and look up at him.

“Yes?”  She asked, grimacing at the feel of brine on her skin. 

The goblins stopped in front her, his mouth a grim slash across his usual cheerful face and his arms crossed.  “You runnin’ from anything?”

Tanyth blinked slowly and tried not to blanch guiltily.  “My former guardian and I had very different ideas on…..well, _everything_.”  She smiled weakly and trued to quash the impulse to burst into tears and tell the whole, sordid tale.

_‘Look what had happened last time you did that, idiot.’_

The goblin’s face stayed unreadable as he thought her answer over for a long moment, his eyes fixed at some point over her shoulder.  “Hmph.  Well, there’s an Alliance ship heading our way, coming from the direction of Stormwind.  They like to conduct ‘random searches’ of independent vessels, claim we’re in their waters or somethin’.  More like they don’t like the little guys tryin’ to make a livin’.”  The Captain shook his head in disgust and gestured towards her.  “C’mon kid.  Let’s go hide you again.”

So it was back to the barrels in the hold for her, her backpack clutched tightly between her chest and knees.

It was aggravating how quickly the day could go when she was busy, despite her blistered hands and slowly healing body.  At least on the deck she could feel the wind on her face, for all that it stung her skin and seemed to insulate the heat coming off the deck. 

But in the dark, fearing being caught and taken back, time seemed to outright _mock_ her.

She felt the anchor drop at some point, the ship lurching violently, and then raised voices.  Well, she could hear them, but couldn’t make out anything they were saying.

Then she heard footsteps.  Footsteps far too heavy to belong to one of her goblin crewmates.

Tanyth forgot how to _breathe_ , and then she made herself take extremely shallow breaths, trying to be as quiet as possible.  She heard the Captain bitching up a storm, threatening this and that if they didn’t stop wasting his time and money.  Mostly became his time was money.

The barrels in front of her shifted, the sacks falling on top of her as they were pulled away.  She laid under them limply, curling up into as small a ball as possible and she prayed.

She could see the brown-edged rims of the barrels that were her last line of defense being moved away through a small crinkle in one of the bags and just knew- _just_ _knew_ \- that she was caught.

A plate-covered boot kicked the sacks several times.  Once it caught her in the ribs, and twice it caught her elsewhere.

Tanyth didn’t make a sound, praying against all hope that she wasn’t visible and that they would just _leave_.

“Yeah, so, if you’re not gonna start _paying me_ get the hell off my ship.”  The Captain sounded bored, entirely unperturbed except for the inconvenience.  “Otherwise I’m gonna have to report this to the Trade Princes.”

Tanyth didn’t dare twitch, waiting with bated breath, feeling as if she was going to burst into a thousand little shards of person at any moment from all the stress.

“Fine.”  A distinctly human voice spat.  “You’re free to go, you little freak.”

“Oh, like I’ve never heard that before.”  The Captain sassed back, sounding distinctly unimpressed.  “Hey- you gonna clean up your mess or what, you pricks?!”

The voices faded out with the footsteps, but Tanyth didn’t dare move.  She had to pee really bad by this point, but she forced herself to stay _still_.

The groaning of stressed iron shuddered through walls of the ship and then the ship lurched into motion, throwing Tanyth across the hold.

Tanyth bit back a scream, tasting copper in her mouth.  Footsteps sounded on the stairs but she was out of position and there was _no_ _time_ -

“Calm down, girlfriend, they’re gone!”  The female goblin on the crew sang, planting her hands on her hips and grinning.  “’Ol’ Jezlack game ‘em an earful, too.  Let’s get these barrels sorted and then you can get back to work.  Day’s still young!”

Tanyth felt so relieved she could cry, but she bit it back, choosing to laugh slightly-hysterically and climb to her feet.  “Here.  I’ll help.”

**\--XXX---**

Ratchet was a _strange_ town.

Built on the sands of the Barrens, a massive arid savannah, the town was an eclectic mix of….well, _everything_.  Elegant homes were butted up against crude, rounded sandstone huts.  Its streets were a jigsaw puzzle with no rhyme or reason, and the city itself crawled along the coastline as far as she could see, sprawling along the coast like some sort of Azerothian Las Vegas. 

There was a small mountain range that separated the city from the rest of the Barrens; the tall, sandy type of striated mountains that weren’t _really_ mountains but were tall enough to qualify.  Tall rock formations, maybe?  The sort that looked weathered and didn’t have any snow on them.

Much like Vegas, Ratchet had it all, a city of entertainment and trade.  Or so the signs said.  Casinos, playhouses, brothels, fine restaurants, taverns, tearooms, gladiatorial arenas, beauty parlors, mystics, warlocks- whatever a person could possible desire- or even potentially dream of desiring- was most likely found in Ratchet.

Torch light, gas lights, outdoor chandeliers- all of those light sources and more illuminated parts of the city in the twilight dusk.  For as far as she could see there were buildings, billboard signs, and other eye-catching things above dark streets, where anonymous people went about their business.  It was much rowdier than Stormwind, with mean looking goblins bearing a tabard she had never seen eying everyone with indifference.

Strangely it was quieter than Stormwind.  Then again Stormwind was made primarily of stone and stone made sound carry fairly well. 

And Tanyth was all alone, with a handful of gold coins and a bounty on her head.  She had helped the crew unload, and now she didn’t know what to do with herself.  Her breaths came in gasps as she tried to plot her way through her exhausted, terrified haze and-

“C’mon, Naneth!”  That was what they had taken to calling her after the surprise inspection, she thought somewhat dully as she turned towards the speaker.  “My cousin’s gotta Inn we can wash up at an’ then we can go get ourselves ready for a night out on the town!”  Kretzel laughed boisterously and swaggered towards the town proper.  “Well, don’t just _stand_ there!”

“Uh, right.”  Tanyth replied, startled and a little, stupidly grateful for the brash goblin’s plan.  Otherwise Tanyth might have stayed on the dock like an idiot all night.

Tanyth followed Kretzel through the streets, nearly on top of the shorter woman, terrified of getting lost.  The light and sounds- and smells- grew more apparent and eye-catching as they wound a nonsensical path from the dicks into the actual city, but Tanyth kept her focus on Kretzel’s form.  Well after night had fallen Kretzel swerved off the path and into an almost cartooishly crooked, dilapidated building with a huge metal arrow on a sturdy metal diaphragm pointing at it.

_‘Wrenchright Boardinghouse’_ the sign nailed catty-cornered beside the door proclaimed.  Kretzel slammed the door open and bellowed something in a different language and was answered in kind while Tanyth slinked quietly in the brash woman’s wake.  Once coin had been offered for Tanyth’s stay they were led up to the upstairs area and proudly shown the baths.  The Inn wasn’t the cleanest thing Tanyth had ever seen, but the water was sufficiently warm- she tried not to think about the fact it didn’t seem overly fresh- and she had found some soap inside her bag.  After scrubbing down herself- like hell she was getting into that tub- she scrubbed out her clothes and hung them from exposed nails in her room.

It felt _so damn good_ to be clean again.  Ramshackle accommodations be damned!

Afterwards Kretzel grabbed her hand and hauled her out into the street.  The goblin dragged Tanyth into a little boutique run by a elven- Highborne?- woman with permanent resting bitchface and a sly smirk. 

Tanyth soon found herself outfitted in some comfortable, knee length leather breeches.  Hanging down to about her knees was a white sleeveless cotton tunic cinched at the waist with a wide purple belt.  Her boots were about two sizes too big, but with a little magic courtesy of the proprietor they were comfortable enough to walk in.  She got a backup sundress, some cloth that was supposed to be a chest binding though there was nothing to bind at the moment, and a few other odds and end before being dragged out of the shop three gold poorer.

They didn’t go far, though, just across the way and down a bit to a beauty salon where a Troll man with large, white tusks and vibrant hair tutted at her and set about making her look ‘like a whole new person’ as Kretzel slyly suggested.

Her dishwater blonde hair was dyed twilight purple, her hair coaxed to grow several inches before bone scissors snipped it off in a jagged cut that fell over her slate gray eyes and feathered out from her chin.  Her hairdresser looped a beaded cloth around her head and showed her how to pin it to keep her hair from showing her eyes.  She paid the blue-skinned man five gold, was given an admonishment that it would only last a few months before starting to fade, and was again dragged out of the shop by Kretzel.

“Well, see ya around, kid.”  Kretzel said as they shared a ‘Bandolier’ mystery meat snack- it looked like a ballpark hotdog, but Tanyth was pointedly not thinking about where the meat came from- in the shadows between a place advertising mystic services and some place boasting gladiator fights.  “Don’t let ‘em getcha down, aight?  Look me up if you eva’ need to move some hot items, k?”  Then the woman tossed her crumpled up wrapper over her shoulder and ambled away, disappearing into the crowded nightlife.

Speechless, Tanyth was more amused than anything; grateful beyond words for the plucky goblin’s help.  For a long moment she just stood there, wondering where to go from here.  It wouldn’t take long for her bounty to show up in the local bounty stations, so she needed to get out of the populated city soon.

But go where?  She could fight- a little- but she had no armor and no idea what to go after.

After getting propositioned by a man who seemed to have ogre ancestry, she quickly made her way back towards the Inn.  Or in the direction she hoped was towards the Inn.  Amusedly she realized that she was in sin city and was a free agent.

_‘Tomorrow,’_ She decided after turning a corner to avoid a brawl and searching helplessly for a familiar landmark, _‘Tomorrow I’ll do some sleuthing and try to rustle up a job.  Or at least get the lay of the land a little.’_

Bars were good places to pick up rumors, right?

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth woke slowly, a pounding inside her head that she hadn’t felt….well, ever.

When she finally managed to pry her eyes open she wasn’t granted any clarity about her situation.  “What the hell happened?”  She asked the creaky wooden ceiling above her.  Was this the Inn’s ceiling?  If so she wondered why she had chosen to rest somewhere where she could see pigeon shit in the gaps of the roof.

“It lives.”  Someone drawled off to the side and Tanyth startled.

“Who the hell are you?”  She demanded, curling slightly upright and wrinkling her nose at the smell of this place.  Oh, wait.  That smell was coming from her.  Why the hell did she reek of alcohol?  “And why am I here?  Actually, scratch that- where am I here and how did I get here?”

Did that make any sense?  Ugh.  She brought a hand up to her face and tried to rub at her eyes, feeling more than a little worried when her cheek felt dentist-analgesic numb.

What the _fuck_?

“Well.”  Her amused….guest?  Drawled, a wide grin on their lips.  “Now that just _hurts_ , don’t you remember me?”   They batted their visible eye at Tanyth in mock injury.

“No.”  Tanyth replied shortly, her memories of last night seemingly ending with sharing a snack with Kretzel.  “And unless you’re gonna fill in the blanks, kindly fuck the hell off.”

Something shifted in the room and- after some concentrated effort and many grunts of exertion- she managed to lever herself up onto her elbows and blearily glower at her….guest.

At first glance it was impossible to determine their gender.  They seemed to be elvish, but the ears were far too short. 

From what she could remember of the lore from back before this became her reality, Warcraft elves were descended from Trolls- though they vehemently denied such a fact.  Trolls had dual, curved, tusks that protruded from the inside of their mouth- near the bottom incisor teeth- and were often decorated with jewelry.  They also might have had something to do with prestige and status, but at the moment she couldn’t really recall any specifics.

Elves had mostly left that part behind, though their incisor teeth were sometimes….ehh, a bit sharper than ones humans boasted.

The real legacy of the Trolls in elven heritage was in the _ears_.

Troll ears were; well, the auricle of the ear- the skin covered cartilage part at the top- was elongated, curving up and slightly out the longer they stretched.  Sometimes Troll ears were long enough to stick out in almost a bat-like fashion; sometimes just six or so inches longer than a human’s ear, but usually still as wide as a normal ear before tapering into a rough point.  Elven ears had gone through centuries of selective breeding to be longer, thinner.  Whippy almost, and nearly always long enough extend well past the back of the head.

The person in front of her had pale ivory skin- which was sort of indicative of the quel’dorei, the descendants of the Highborne who had opposed Queen Delusional during the War of the Ancients, before being summarily tossed out into the cold by their Night Elven kin- but, well, the ears were all wrong.  Wider, shorter, and a but more….well, structured like a human’s ears as opposed to a Troll or and elf’s ears.  Just, you know, about twice the length of a human’s ear and curving out and up from the middle.

Tanyth’s guest’s facial features were a little too blunt to be purely elven, too.  With a rounded nose and full lips, with soft cheekbones.  Their hair fell down their back, straight as a razor’s edge and white as freshly laundered linen sheet.  Their eyes- well eye, as the left half of their face was covered- were a startling, clear blue.  Disconcertingly blue almost.

Trolls had normal eyes, if not for the range of reds that made up the iris.  Elves, meanwhile, generally had sort of backlight eyes that lacked the different segments of color of a human’s eyes.  Night Elves boasted bright starlight, a connection to their goddess, Elune.  In the game the Highborn had similar eyes, if not closer to frost-arcane blue, while the Blood Elves had had poison green backlight eyes.

Now that she thought about it, she should probably quit assuming that her knowledge of the races and their traits were the same as the lore-slash-game she remembered.  It would likely only lead her to unattractive gaping and awkward silences.

Like now, she belatedly realized.

“Finished oogling?”  Her guest drawled dryly, smiling tightly.  “Or shall I strip for you as well?”

Tanyth’s brain crashed for a moment before she allowed herself to fall back against the bed and covered her face with her hands.  “Oh, fuck off, grasshopper.  _Why_ _are_ _you_ _here_?”

“Last night you stumbled into my Ma-“  There was a pregnant pause, before they continued, as though they had never faltered, their voice cool and smooth.  Indifferent.  Clinical.  “The brothel on Paddlewick Street.  An upscale, private one.  As an uninvited guest to a private club the….proprietor demanded you be punished.  You argued.  Insistently.  You heatedly maintained that the establishment was labeled as a bar, not a brothel and no one tried to prevent you from entering.  In the end- thanks to the Bruisers getting involved- it came down to a drinking contest.  If the proprietor won, you became one of his….employees until your offense was paid for in full.  If you won, you walked away with something of great personal value to the proprietor- myself- as recompense for his casting aspirations onto your….intentions.”

Tanyth had a _very_ bad feeling about where this was going.

“Ratchet Regrets were the drink of choice.  They are said to be lethal to a human after more than three glasses.”  Her narrator continued, voice mild as milk.  “You, somehow, downed _nine_.  The proprietor passed out after this eighth.  You claimed your prize- myself- and demanded I lead you to your Inn.  And here we are.”

Yes, Tanyth had a terrible feeling.  “I-“

“Seeing as how you _remember nothing_.”  And there was some sincere anger- frustration?- and a scathing sense of injustice in that slightly-less-than-even tone.  “I will explain further.  I am a halfblood.”  There was a slightly smothered, bitter snort before they continued.  “My _father-“_   Oh, _hello_ daddy issues.  “-is a rather respected mage in Dalaran.  Has a habit of sleeping with his apprentices, _especially_ the human ones.”  There was definitely a curl of disgust and loathing there.  “He prefers to _disappear_ the results of his indiscretions to a labor broker in the sewers underneath the city, whose company is known throughout Azeroth.  Which is how I ended up here.  As that digusting fleshpile’s personal companion.”  There was dark, humorless chuckle before her guest added, “So now I am in your _personal_ service, Mistress.”

Tanyth did her best not to cry.  Because she could see it.  She grew up in a refugee camp and survived three years under the tender mercies Katrana Prestor, she _knew_ -

She just hated it.

 “Hm.”  Her guest hummed mildly.  “And the paperwork transferring possession to you has already been filed.  If I’m found without you- well, it wouldn’t mean anything good.  For me.”  The guest’s tone twisted, their pitch dropping into something rougher.  “Though there are those who like to send their slaves out to get caught, merely to enjoy the aftermath.  They lose possession of the asset, of course, and then I’d be up for….auction once again.”

It was spoken softly, but Tanyth still heard it.

Dammit.

“So.”  She interjected thickly, tamping down on her sense of helpless indignation.  “Your father sold you into slavery.  To the goblins, a neutral faction.  All the neutral ports and towns are controlled by the Trade Princes.  Mercenaries, the different kingdoms, the goblins themselves- you’d literally have nowhere you could hide.  You’d have to go into town for something, eventually and then-“  Tanyth swallowed thickly as hot, frustrated tears leaked out of her closed eyes.  “-well, as much as I hate it, I can see it.  ‘Labor cartel’ my ass.”

Well, she was well and truly _screwed_.  She couldn’t just set, er, _them_ free.  Couldn’t just park them somewhere either.  Couldn’t even contemplate selling them, because that made her want to hurl. 

Actually this whole situation made her want to hurl.

_“Come now, little Tanyth._ ”  Lady Prestor’s voice made her already queasy stomach roil and she managed to roll onto her side, landing awkwardly on the floor when she slipped over the side of the bed.  She retched.  Bile, burring alcohol, and blood soaked her clothes, the floor, and crept under the dresser and end table.

It felt like it would never end.

When she managed to shakily sit up, her sinuses felt as if she had scraped them raw, and the less said about her abused throat the better.  She hiccupped, trying to keep her insides, well, inside her.

The door to the room closed and she heard soft footsteps coming closer.  She was startled when a pale hand came into view, handing her a wet towel, which she took with a soft murmur of thanks.

Once she had mopped up her face she realized she was still kneeling in her own vomit.  Her brows drew together in confusion when she noticed her guest silently mopping up her mess.

“Uh, thanks?”  She spluttered, reaching out and latching onto a pale wrist, dropping her face rag into the mess on the floor.  “But I’ll get it.”  She wrinkled her nose in distaste when she realized their hair was still loose and free- and trailing in her gross vomit.  “Dude, your hair is getting coated.”

A blue eye glared balefully at her.  “I’m doing my duty as your _slave_ , Mistress..”

“Wait, what?”  She demanded incredulously, ignoring what was happening and spending a moment being thankful she couldn’t smell anything.  Her sinuses were well and truly fried.  “If you’re my….hired help, don’t you do what _I_ say?”

There was the sound of teeth grinding and her new little pain in the ass sat up onto their knees to glare at her.  “I’m still owned by the labor cartel.”  They bit out crossly.  “So I still must abide by their rules, even though I am now in your….service.”  They smiled insincerely at her.  “Personal service means _personal service_.”

“I am _so confused_.”  Tanyth sighed, feeling like crying again.  All she had wanted to do was get away from Onyxia!

“Until my debt is paid to the cartel- even if _you_ die- I am still a slave.”  Her guest grit out angrily.  “So I must maintain a spotless record to prevent myself from being auctioned off to….less desirable patrons.“

Tanyth was watching her new companion- this was all shit she didn’t want to deal with, ever- closely.  She identified with them so much it _hurt_.

“Do you like having your hair that long?”  Tanyth asked, seemingly at random.  She released their wrist and let them resume their work.  For now.

“No.”  Her guest grit out angrily, turning to face her fully and shoving their hair out of the left side of their face.

“Oh.”  Tanyth breathed, stricken.

A line of blue-purple-black arcane script pulsed angrily.  It began at their hairline, trailed over the left eyelid, and then trailed over the edge of the chin, down their neck.

_Over the carotid artery_.  A small part of her noted distantly.

“My previous master-“  There was a wealth of disgust and loathing there.  “-preferred that my arcane identifier be covered while I was _entertaining_.”

And that was about the time Tanyth noticed the skin tight breeches and mostly-open shirt.  Given the bulge in the groin area, she was going to guess her companion was male.

“And your personal opinion?”  Tanyth prompted gently.  Her mind was strangely blank, for all that she was rapidly connecting details and trying to plot out her next move.

“A little longer than yours.  And dyed dark enough that my tag can’t be seen.”  He replied testily, angrily mopping up her mostly-pure-alcohol vomit and wringing it out into a chamber pot.   “Not that it _matters_.”

“It _does_.”  Tanyth muttered mutinously, mostly to herself.  She used the rag she had used on her face to begin to mop up her mess beside her new companion.  “How much to buy out your contract?”

There was a snort of not-laughter.  “A thousand gold.”

Tanyth winced, but nodded grimly, shuffling over and reaching out to bring the chamber pot between them.  “That’s a steep price.”  She hummed lightly, her mind whirring.  “We’ll need to get crackin’ on it sooner, rather than later.”

Her companion did a double take.  “ _What_?”  He hissed, furious as a coiled snake.

“It’s not right.”  She continued steadily, mopping up her mess and planning their next move.  “And I can’t- there’s no way to help everyone.”  She swallowed thickly, upset beyond reason at the injustice of the situation.  “But the Light led me here-“

“The Light doesn’t give a damn about- this place!”  Her new ward hissed, loathing and longing dripping from their tone.  “It abandoned Ratchet long ago-“

Tanyth threw down her rag and let her connection Light flow freely, the iridescent golden light sparking bright and brilliant in the dim light of the dismal room.  She let it build, flowing between herself and her frozen companion.  Tanyth smiled, understanding.  As a fellow survivor of the cruelty of the world she knew what it was like to witness the raw comfort of the Light; its brilliantly unrestrained glory a steady a relief as the breaking of the dawn in winter.  Perhaps not warm enough to melt the ice, but a welcome sigh nonetheless.  “The Light-“  She breathed, sure as was she was of anything.  “-abandons _no man._ ”

The blue eyes of her companion went wide, their form frozen stiff as tendrils of the Light wound gently around and over their skin.  They gulped, their small adam’s apple bobbing nervously as they watched the motes of light dance before their eyes. 

Tanyth smiled sharply, her resolve hardening and her focus sharpening, because while it was a shitty situation, she now had a purpose.  She stopped channeling the Light, picking up her rag and scrubbing at her mess once again, anxious to clean up the room, get clean, and plot out her next move.

‘ _Hm_.’  She thought as she wrung out the rag and the alcohol smell fumes were pungent; dear Light she didn’t even enjoy drinking alcohol what the hell had she been _thinking_?!  _‘This is a pre-Horde Kalimdor, so we should probably head towards Thunder Bluff.  We’ll need supplies, of course, and I’ll need to get Homeboy some gear- I wonder if he can fight?  He has a dancer’s build, so he’s likely far more graceful than I am.  Eh, we’ll have to figure it out as we go.  I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long trip.’_

“You _do_ realize that even the richest crime bosses or brothel owners in Ratchet earn less than a hundred gold a year, right?” Her companion broke into her thoughts with an amazingly snide, bitter statement.  “Everyone else- especially those who do honest work- earn less than a _single gold_ per year.  At _best_.”

Tanyth winced a little as she shifted forward, moving to a new spot in her mess.  She remembered, vaguely, how tight the original game’s economy had been, but with her having been serving at the Cathedral and then under the Nobles, she had…..forgotten.  It was stupid- she had been born in a refugee camp for Light’s sake!- but it was what it was.

“Well, we’ll just have to work hard.”  She replied with as much cheer as she could muster, resolutely pushing away the feeling of being in way over her head.  For an incredulous moment she missed being in Stormwind with Lady Prestor, if only for the security of the routine.

Which was _stupid_.  What the _fuck_ , brain?

“This is stupid.  You’re _ridiculous_.”  Her companion grumbled, falling silent after Tanyth shot him an unimpressed look.

“Why did you tell me so much about yourself, anyways?”  Tanyth wondered aloud a little later, after the pot had been emptied at least twice and they were getting close to being finished.  “I mean, I appreciate it, but I didn’t really expect-“

“The binding compels me.  _Obviously_.”  Her companion snarled, and Tanyth’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“Oh no.”  She murmured, her eyes beginning to sting.  “Oh- oh _no_.”  She took deep breaths and asked, as evenly as possible.  “Is there a way to circumvent that?  I mean, everyone should be able to keep secrets.”

For fuck’s sake!  What would life under Onyxia been like if she hadn’t been able to pick and choose her words?

“No.”  Her companion spat testily, not looking up from the floor.  “It’s part of the binding.”

“Well.”  Tanyth replied briskly, pushing herself to her feet and grimacing at her……general state of ick.  Even her _hair_ had alcohol in it, and her short purple stands had been held back by her headband this whole time!  “If I ask you a question that you don’t feel like answering, do your best to tell me and I’ll drop it.”

The look he gave her in response to that should have been a clue as to how much of an asshole he was going to be about it.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth levied an utterly exasperated look at her companion.  “Look, if you don’t give me a name I’m gonna call you….cupcake or something!  I swear by all that is holy _I will_!” 

Oh, her day had gotten worse.  And they hadn’t even left the Inn yet!

Tanyth was feeling more and more on the verge of a full-blown panic attack the longer she was awake.  She had known leaving Stormwind meat being on her own- and that was a scary enough prospect, given Azeroth’s kill-a-bitch wilds- but now she had this….jackass to haul around as well.

Had the Light led their paths to cross or had it been the Void?  Because he certainly wasn’t feeling Light-sent!

After a quick wash, she had hung her spare clothes up in her room- she had reserved the room for three days, as it was cheaper to book multiple days- and had headed down to the main area to get some breakfast with her new companion.

And that was when this had all started.

It had been then that the _utter asshole_ had smiled thinly at her and replied, “I would prefer not to answer.”

All she had asked was what he wanted for breakfast.  Then how to get to the hairdresser.  Then what his _damn name_ was.

With every question he smiled a bit wider and parroted her words back to her.

“I would prefer-“

Tanyth slapped a hand over his mouth- and she only came up to his chest, so that took some effort- and smiled in strained, nearly homicidal manner.  “Fine then, _Cupcake_.”  Then she paused, considered how that could be considered demeaning, and adjusted her choice.  “Actually, since I’m such a nice person I’m going to call you……uh…..”

Fuck.  ‘ _Think, bitch, think…..’_

“Jarvis.”  She decided, a creepy grin tugging at her mouth as she stepped back and pointed a finger at him in triumph.  “You are now _Jarvis_.”  She whirled around, her hands on her leather clad hips, and grinned at the highly amused looking goblin behind the bar, her purple strands shifting in her peripheral vision.  “Two breakfasts, please!”

“Sure, sweetheart, coming’ right up!”  Kretzel’s cousin replied, waving them off towards the rough picnic tables over to the side.  “You kids want anything to drink with that?”

Tanyth considered the general cleanliness of Ratchet and tossed the barkeep a smile.  “Something bottled?”

“Got Stranglethorn Berry Juice and some Lordaeron Applebrand, toots.  Everything else has alcohol.”  The goblin gave Tanyth a wide smirk, blue eyes full of wicked humor.  “Tho’ given how your morning’s goin’, I’d suggest you either start with the heavy stuff or suffer.”

“The, ah, Applebrand, if you don’t mind.”  Tanyth ordered sheepishly, pushing her walking, talking problem towards one of the least disgusting benches in the joint.  “Two, please.”

“Sure thing, hon.”

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth crossed her arms and glowered at everyone who looked at Jarvis even the slightest bit wrong.  He might be an asshole- who laughed at her when she got turned around in the streets, despite the Innkeeper’s crude map- but he wasn’t a piece of meat to be oogled. 

Perhaps she should have taken them clothes shopping first?

At least Ta’wan- her hairdresser, who had a bone through his blue nose today; it worked for him- was fluent in not-really-cooperative-asshole speak.  So, Jarvis’ knee length hair- and that was on him, his hair was taller than Tanyth, honestly- was now just above his shoulders and in the process of being dyed a brilliant shade of crimson.  The half-elf’s ears stuck out, and it was then that Tanyth realized that they weren’t smoothly tapered points, but roughly rounded ones.

Honestly, they reminded her of bat ears.  Just….with human-esque configuration and slightly curved outwards, away from the head, past the normal ear length.

Still sort of cute, though.

Ta’wan spun Jarvis around to face her and her smile curdled. 

Cute or not, he was still an _asshole_.

“Thanks, Ta’wan.”  She sighed as she forked over her payment to the Troll.  “I don’t suppose you know the easiest way to Thunder Bluff?  The Tauren town?”  She inquired wryly.

“Nah, mon.”  Ta’wan replied with a grin curving around his tusks.  “But ‘ol Masa down the way is ah Tauren.  He or his woman Redda would know”

“Thanks, Ta’wan.”  Tanyth answered him gratefully, giving him a quick hug before grabbing Jarvis’ hand and running for the door.

In the daylight the streets of Ratchet were……dirty.  The light of day exposed the haggard homeless- of all races- and the trash piled high in the streets.  Children darted around, and it was only her backpack being clutched to her chest that let her feel safe from being pickpocketed.

The sight made her heart hurt, though.  It wasn’t any worse than the camps- or even the poorest areas of Stormwind- but seeing people suffer made her itch to fix it.

Then there was the smell, which wasn’t helped by the heat.  Even the sea breeze smelled stale and….icky.  And the sounds gave her a headache, though it was quieter than it had been, well, yesterday evening.  But she might also be suffering from alcohol poisoning, so she wasn’t certain.

She found a small store called ‘Redda’s Tonics’ squished between a crude sand hut advertising a brothel’s services and a stately older home with a sign in the yard proclaiming it was gambling house.  The tonic shop was made from wood, seemingly held together by duct tape and copious amounts of nails.

The inside was surprisingly clean, though.  And it smelled more like a flower shop than an apothecary.  Of course that might have a whole lot to do with the many, many boxes of flowers that were in various stages of bloom all over the shop.  And she did mean all over!  There were even long trails of ivy that dripped down from in between the ill-fitting floorboards of the second level!

The sound of hooves on wood was heard just before a bovine face with a gold ring through the nose stepped into the cramped front of the store.  The Tauren was stooped over to fit and his made was mottled grey with proud grey horns twisting from his temples.  He snuffled a bit at the dust his arrival kicked up, eying the newcomers with wary dark eyes.  “Can I help you?”

Tanyth crossed her right, closed fist to cover her heart and bowed lightly, though she kept her eyes focused on the proprietor.  “Greetings.  My companion and I were told you might be willing to give us directions to Thunder Bluff?”

The Tauren’s eyes widened in surprise and he placed his hefty, three digit palms heavily on the creaky surface of the counter.  “Oh?”  He rumbled, the sound kind and strangely out of place in Ratchet.  “And why would a human and a thrall wish to visit the land of my people?”

“Work.”  Tanyth answered mildly, a wry grin spreading across her face.  “I didn’t mean to acquire a companion, but I meant it when I said I’d work to buy his freedom.”  She glared at the smirking form of Jarvis.  “Even if he is an _asshole_.”  She muttered not _quite_ under her breath.

“Hm.”  The Tauren hummed, stroking his tufty bread with a meaty hand and staring intently at Tanyth.

Which made her feel like she was under a supernatural microscope, really.  Highly uncomfortable.

“I’m afraid that you have been misinformed.”  The Tauren eventually told her gravely, his dark eyes sorrowful.  “The Tauren tribes haven’t had a land to call their own in millennia.  We are scattered across the southern parts of this land as nomadic tribes, fighting a ceaseless war against the brutish centaur.”  He snorted heavily through his nose, jostling his golden nose ring and shuffling his hooves in agitation.

Tanyth was still stuck on the information, though.  Thunder Bluff didn’t exist yet? 

_What_?!

Struggling to slot the pieces into place she lapsed into stunned silence.

While she was more than used to the idea of being stuck in a pre-Third War time, she hadn’t truly realized just how many events had been catalyzed by the stupid thing.  And it wasn’t like she had done nothing to change the timeline, either!  Queen Tiffin was alive- and Tanyth pushed down the bitter sense of betrayal that accompanied thinking of Stormwind’s Queen- and with her presence, King Varian was still an effective ruler.  And after the incident that had nearly killed the Queen there had been a ton of new security measures and advances made in Stormwind.

Onyxia as Lady Prestor had been unable to use her keen, magically-induced persuasiveness to sway the King away from the new measures even.  And Katrana had been able to convince the King and Court of quite a few things- like Tanyth being a liar- over the years!

But, for Thunder Bluff to not exist _at all_ yet?  What was Tanyth going to do?!

The southern part of Kalimdor was essentially lands that the Night Elves had abandoned.  At the southernmost point was the fallen kingdom of Ahn-whatever.  The scarab-beetle people.  She remembered it mostly because there had been a guild event thing involving a gong and a scepter of some sort- and because Fandral Staghelm had lost his son in the war, which had led the druid to falling into madness.  She also thought that the ‘kingdom’ had originally been a Titan facility, used to imprison one of the Old Gods, but that part was pretty fuzzy and might be entirely wrong.

Still- no Thunder Bluff!  What the hell was she going to do?!

_‘Ok, calm down!  Think about this!’_  She ordered herself firmly, clenching her hands into fists and taking deep breaths.  ‘ _Desolace is still an option.  There should be a Night Elf outpost there with plenty of jobs for a mercenary.  You know that Guilds exist, idiot!  Stormwind contracts them all the time!’_   Of course that brought up the point that some of the allied mercenary guilds might also be after _her_ , if there was a bounty on her head.

Guilds were just what they sounded like- organized groups of mercenaries who registered with the kingdoms and were regularly contracted for jobs.  There was a guild hall in every major city- even places like Dalaran or Ironforge.  They came in all types and were generally well-respected, save for the ones branded as ‘immoral’.  The guild hall in Stormwind had even had a large book that detailed things like tabard designs, accomplishments, and recommendations for people to leaf through while choosing which guilds to hire.

As a matter of fact, it had been mercenary guilds who had guarded the refugee camp and had seen Tanyth’s group of people from Lordaeron to Elwynn.  Despite the sheer number of human kingdoms, there were plenty of folk who either thumbed their nose at the idea of joining an army or navy under the service of a monarch, or were outside the realm of the kingdoms and took the life of a mercenary over that of a laborer.

_‘Not helping.’_   She snapped at herself, trying to think her way around the massive problem she had stumbled into.  Unconsciously she propped one hand on her hip while she rubbed at her temple with the other.  She did remain aware enough to keep herself from chewing on her hair; that had been a nasty habit in her last life that had taken _forever_ to break.  True, her hair was much shorter here, but the tips of her bangs brushed the edges of her lips and so it was just there.  Impulses could be irritating and annoying.

“Hm.”  The Tauren huffed again, shifting her focus from her dismal planning skills to the proprietor.  It was at that point that she realized she had been having an existential crisis in the middle of a conversation.  How incredibly _rude_ of her!

“Oh, please excuse my ignorance!”  She belted out as cheerfully as she could manage, giving the proprietor another polite bow and stepping back.  “I must have mixed up my rumors again!  I suppose we’ll just head for Desolace, see if there’s any work to be had.  Thanks!”  And she twirled around, her hand on the knob to leave.

“Wait.”  The proprietor called out, shifting heavily behind them, causing Tanyth to turn just enough she could side-eye him.

“Yes?”

“You are a mercenary?”  He asked, and Tanyth forgave him for the incredulous once-over he subjected her to.

“Yep!”  She replied chirpily, her eyes sliding into happy little crescents before she turned to face him properly, leaning her back against the door.  “Newly…..promoted, you could say!  Gotta grab me- _us_ some armor, but I’m pretty handy with the Light, so we’ll manage!”

“The Light?  You are a priestess?”  The Tauren said somewhat doubtfully, his thick brows drawing together in confusion.

“Something like that.”  Tanyth returned wryly.  “I’m fairly handy at channeling and shaping my intent through the Light, though I don’t know many traditional spells _.”  ‘More like almost none, save for imbuing cloth with healing spells.  And only the very basics of how to tap into the arcane.’_   She thought rather grimly, well aware of how hard she was going to have to work in order to stay alive.  “I do know a few, like Power Words: Shield and Fortitude and the Purify spell, but mostly I merely adapt the Light I channel based on what the situation demands.”  She grinned and shrugged a little self-consciously.

“Your….purify spell.  Does it work on infections?”  The Tauren seemed to hunch over a bit further, intent on her answer.

Her first thought was of being asked to cure some sort of weird venereal disease, and then she rolled her eyes at herself.  ‘ _Oh, grow up.’_   “Purify can be used to purge toxins and diseases, but of the latter- well, if the infection is deep seated Purify in and of itself won’t eradicate it, I’m afraid.”

“But it can help?”  He pressed insistently, his hands gripping the wood of his counter hard enough to splinter it. 

“Well, yes.”  Tanyth replied, somewhat startled by his intensity.  “But-“

“Follow me.”  The Tauren ordered, gesturing to a lattice gate that was covered in mageroyal. “And mind the floor, it’s not level.”

Tanyth, feeling very off-balance, followed the proprietor; Jarvis following quietly behind her.

The plant life seemed to grow thicker, to the point the smells became nearly overpowering, as they made it to a rickety set of stairs at the back of the small store.  Though the floor for the second story had been ripped away, so their guide could at least stand at his full height.  After having to do some pseudo-acrobatics to climb the unevenly spaced stairs with several key steps missing, she made it to the second floor landing.

And then she understood.

On a bed made of lush grass, with those handwoven, brightly dyed blankets wrapped around them was another Tauren.

“Redda, my love, the Ancestors have smiled upon us!”  The other Tauren spoke quietly to the very sick, shivering, gasping Tauren on the bed.  The proprietor took the sick Tauren’s hand and held it, tenderly wrapping their strong fingers around the sick Tauren’s weaker digits.  “A priestess of the Light is here.”

“Masa, what?”  The Tauren on the bed croaked out, their much lighter brown eyes fluttering open for a moment before falling shut again.  “You foolish old cow!  You know better than to trust people in this foul place!”

Tanyth laughed lightly and walked closer, handing her backpack off to Jarvis as she came to stand near the woman’s- close enough it was easy to tell- bedside.  “I’m Tanyth!”  She chirped brightly, holding her hands out over the woman and pulling at the Light.  It answered her eagerly and then she concentrated, focusing just like the Archbishop had taught her so long ago-

_“Now, child, we do not cast spells as the mages do, but we do shape the Light we are given into different forms.”  Archbishop Faol held Tanyth’s tiny arms up, her hands gently held by his own, as he formed white fire in his palms.  With a sharp downward motion he released his hold on the spell, causing it to fly forward and strike the wooden training dummy in the center.  The sickly spell that had been cast on it for the purpose of this demonstration dissipating into glistening bits of smoke.   “And that, my child, is how we may use the Light to purge all manner of ills from the body  Perhaps even the spirit, if one has a strong enough affinity..”_

Tanyth didn’t have the Archbishop’s control, so the white fires of Purify flickered around her fingers and snaked up towards her elbows.  She spent a fruitless moment trying to trim the spell down before she mentally shrugged and released it, pushing her open palms down and above the woman’s head and heart, respectively.  “Purify.”  She whispered, mostly from rote as opposed to needing the verbalization to marshal her will.

The fire melted off her hands and swirled in midair for a long moment before it fell, sinking into the Tauren woman below her.  The woman twitched, arching upwards in pain, but just as quickly as it happened it was over.  The white fire fizzled out, and with it the woman’s brown fur regained some color and her breathing evened out a bit.

Tanyth’s brow furrowed, and her mouth was a grim line as she raised her hands and allowed the Light to flow through her.  While she didn’t know any healing spells per se, the Light was in and of itself a healing power.  She held her hands about six inches apart and let the Light build between her palms.  Once there was a steadily growing, tightly packed ball of the stable, thrumming flow of a healing spell she carefully refined the energy, shaping it even tighter in her intent before she slowly lowered it onto her patient.

It took all of her concentration to keep the spell from spiraling out of her control- this was far more delicate work than her usual method of just pulling on raw power and being as blunt as a sledgehammer- but once the spell was exhausted, Tanyth could feel that her patient was in much better health.  Still far from perfect, but no longer two steps away from death’s door either.

A wave of vertigo swept through her and she stumbled over to lean on the wall while the happy couple exclaimed over how much better the sick Tauren was feeling.  Tanyth sort of lost track after a while, and only really came back down into reality when a bottle of something was pressed against her lips.  She spluttered a little, reeling back and smacking her head on the outside wall when she didn’t recognize the taste of what she was drinking.

“It’s melon juice.”  Jarvis informed her flatly, holding the canteen of purple juice up to her lips again, leaving her to either drink it or wear it.  “It’s a restorative.”

“Thanks, I think.”  She muttered once the shallow cup was empty.  She did feel a bit better, actually, but she wasn’t about to tell Cupcake that.  Tanyth pushed off the wall and managed to steady herself before she fell flat on her face.

If this was any indication of how weak she was, she was going to _die_.

Cupcake snorted, withdrawing the arm he had held out to steady her- though she hadn’t needed it- and fixing her with a queer look.  “You just healed a woman who has been sick for ten years.  I wouldn’t call that a weak feat.”

Tanyth opened her mouth to protest, but she was cut off by her patient, who was sitting up and being happily fussed over by the proprietor.

“The child speaks the truth, Priestess.”  Smiles on a bovine face should look threatening, but the woman’s entire demeanor was so kind it was impossible for her smile to be anything but.  “I was poisoned by _centaur’s_ spear-“ 

And lady-Tauren _did_ have a temper, given the rage that flashed through her eyes and the aura of doom that emanated from her when she spat the word ‘centaur’ like a curse.  Good to know.  _‘You best be able to cross this field in seven seconds, because the bull can do it in eight.’_ Sprang to mind, and Tanyth hard to suck in her cheeks to keep from laughing like a moron.  

“-ten years ago, when I was still a youngling.  Masa and I- I am Redda- left our tribe, coming to this city to seek out someone with the skills to cure me.”  Redda sighed heavily and closed her eyes in regret.  “We never should have left.  By the time we realized that there was no help to be found in Ratchet and returned home……our entire tribe had perished at the hands of the centaur.”

Tanyth grimaced, feeling sympathy for this poor woman and her losses.

“Being sick meant none of the other tribes wanted to take us in, and even the druids under Archdruid Runetotem couldn’t find a cure to the ails that dogged my steps.  The poison, they said, was not natural, laced with dark magics.  They did they best, but were ultimately unsuccessful in curing me.”  She opened her eyes and smiled at Tanyth.  “I always felt the sickness within me, like a thorn I couldn’t remove but now….it’s gone.”  Redda reached out and took hold of Tanyth’s hands, pressing her forehead against the small appendages.  “I am forever in your debt, Priestess.”

“As am I.”  Masa also bowed to Tanyth, food for Redda tucked under one arm.

“I-“  Tanyth had never felt like such a failure.  A fraud.  She gently tugged her hands out of Redda’s grip and smiled tremulously.  “I’m not a priestess.”  Tanyth confessed, clenching her hands in the scratchy cotton of her shirt and playing with the bright blue scarf she was using as a belt.  “Just a….believer, I guess.”

Redda laughed, the sound unexpected and joyous, shaking her matted reddish mane over her curved brown horns.  “You might not be of a specific order, child, but that does not mean you are any less a priestess.”  The Tauren woman opened her eyes and smiled fondly at Tanyth, who was still doing her best to protest.  “Now, why were you inquiring about a Tauren settlement that does not exist?”  Redda’s eyes were keen as she gazed at Tanyth and the girl _really_ wished people would stop doing that.  “Thunder Bluff are words passed around by Chieftain Bloodhoof; a dream of one day claiming Mulgore for the Tauren tribes, a place for younglings to grow without fear of being snatched in the night by centaur.  How do you know the name?”

“Uh…”  Tanyth would just like to take a moment to lodge a complaint.  This morning she had woken up to a new person depending on her for survival and promptly vomited gallons of alcohol on the floor, how was she supposed to answer her fucking up the timeline this badly?!  All she wanted was to get away from Onxyia and Stormwind!  “We- my companion and I- were hoping to gear up there, as I don’t trust Ratchet’s armor and weapon options.”  She said rather dully, sounding false even to her own ears.  “I didn’t intend to acquire a traveling companion, but I have.  And thus it is my responsibility to see him free, as any other option would stain my conscience.  I figured Desolace would hold job opportunities for a mercenary with a price on her head.”

Redda tilted her head inquisitively towards Tanyth while Masa sat down beside his wife, unloading the bread and cheese in his arms onto the small beside table to his right.

“My former…appointed guardian and I had a- well, we didn’t agree on much.  And she had everyone convinced that I was a no-good liar in need of excessive….discipline.”  Tanyth explained slowly, shifting back towards the wall defensively.  “So I left.”  She shrugged, but she didn’t think she made the motion as cavalier as she had hoped.  “My leaving would raise questions, though, so I imagine she put a bounty on me to save face.”

The couple shared a look between themselves- and why did that make her heart twist painfully?- before they nodded and turned back towards her. 

“Well, then, we shall lead you across the Barrens towards Desolace, then.”  Redda declared firmly, biting into her half of the hard loaf of bread and giving Tanyth a look that just dared her to argue.  “Without my illness weighing us down we might find a new tribe to settle in with.”  The female Tauren smiled knowingly and nodded towards Tanyth.  “And we will be able to teach you how to survive in the wilds.”  She held up a hand to silence Tanyth’s attempts to protest, adding.  “I know that you use the Holy Light, but my mother and grandmother were both Seers.  I have always wished to follow their paths, but I’ve never had a teacher.”

“I’m not a teacher.”  Tanyth muttered, curling into herself a little at the hopeful look Redda was giving her.  Tanyth crossed her arm, wrapping her left hand around her right elbow and tapped out a rhythm on her thigh with her extended arm, her gaze tilted towards the ceiling.  “Seers are sort of like priests, right?  Only they pull power from An’she- the sun- instead of believing the Light to come from faith alone.  Sort of like the Night Elves and their worship of Elune, the moon goddess.”  Silence fell and Tanyth glanced away from the ceiling- she could see flashing lights through it and it was distracting!- to look at her hosts.  “What?”  She asked defensively.

“For one so young and so…..human, you are well versed in…secrets.”  Masa rumbled, his deep voice holding an inquisitive lilt.

“But you are essentially correct.”  Redda hasted to add, with a smile to take the sting out of Masa’s words.  “ _An’she_ and _Mu’sha_ are important figures to the Tauren; we believe them to be the eyes of the Earthmother, before the ancient _shu’halo_ lost their way.  And we have long respected our Seers for their council and wisdom.”  Her eyes grew sad as she looked down at her bread with a frown.  “My mother and grandmother died when I was young.  Masa’s family raised me as their own and welcomed me as the lifemate of their son.”  She tossed her husband a fond smile before looking back towards Tanyth hopefully.  “I believe that we could help each other!

Tanyth hesitated and Masa took that opportunity to give his opinion.

“While I studied under our tribe’s druid for a time, when it became obvious that we would be forced to make a living here in Ratchet I plied my skills as a leather shaper.”  The man smiled, his horns glinting in the midmorning light.  “I could teach you to make your own armor, not to mention properly carve your game, so that you aren’t forced to waste usable parts of what you hunt.”

That….was an excellent idea, actually.  For a variety of reasons- including but not limited to keeping herself alive and having goods to sell or barter with.

“But what about your shop?”  Tanyth asked, eying the beautiful blooms that were carefully blended together to make this oasis in a city that appreciated little of the natural world’s wonders.

Both Tauren laughed.  “Even for a druid of my low skill, coaxing my blooms back into their seeds to be planted elsewhere is within my ability.”  Masa assured her, his teeth flashing white and even behind his parted lips.  “Truthfully they will be glad to leave this place, and so will we.”

The next few hours passed in a bit of a bemused blue as the Tauren couple literally pulled up stakes, Tanyth offering her backpack for storage, which meant they could take more than they planned.  The enchantments on her bag were the best Stormwind had to offer, so it didn’t phase her a bit when they were happily surprised at how much more her bag could hold.

The Wishock’s might be assholes, but they were assholes obsessed with status and thus Tanyth had stolen a really nice bag.  She should have stolen some other really nice things, but- _hindsight_.

Still, a rather clinical part of her wondered where the paperwork and negotiations part of this whole blending of duos was supposed to happen.  You were supposed to make decisions like this slowly and after much deliberation, right?  Wasn’t this all happening a little too quickly?  Was it just a handful of hours ago that she had been puking up pure alcohol on her floor at the Inn?

Captain Jezlack had made better time than he had planned, even after wasting half an afternoon being searched by the Alliance.  He was also insane and perfectly willing to risk his neck for a ‘speedy delivery’ bonus.  So this time exactly a week ago she had still been in Stormwind, patiently waiting a chance to escape and now-

“We will need to cross the Barrens, which are mostly arid plains with some scattered oases in order to pass through the southern area of the Stonetalon Mountains to get to Desolace.”  Masa explained, unrolling a painted leather map with unfamiliar markings on it.  “This map is one my father made, and I have a newer one acquired on a trade last spring.”  The man frowned and shook his head, his bead-studded braids clinking lightly in the now barren, decrepit wooden building.  “We will make for a small rock formation where I set up camp when I go to hunt.  The centaurs tend to stay well away from Ratchet, so we should have time to gather materials and forge some armor and weapons for us all before we move on.”

“Awesome.”  Tanyth replied, trying to exude more confidence and cheer than she felt.  “Well, let’s stock up on salts and things like that before we hit the road, we don’t want to have to come back once we’ve tasted freedom!”

This was going to Grade A _suck_.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


	4. Chapter 4

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth _hated_ being right sometimes.

As a rule she hated bugs, but she tolerated them much better in this life than before.  However, she _loathed_ to local silithid population.  With all of her heart and soul.  Silithid were bright red bugs about the size of her hand with black stingers that liked to swarm.

Eugh.  Just remembering that nest of disgusting silithid they walked into the first evening, before they even set up camp three hours across the burning savanna from Ratchet’s outer walls, made her shiver in disgust.

Funny story- put Tanyth under enough pressure and she will bust out some arcane fire.  Apparently eavesdropping on lectures from wandering classes of the College of Mages had actually resulted in some practical knowledge.  Goodness knows she had overheard at least thirty or so of the damn things under Onxyia’s watch, but she had been far too exhausted to try anything with the absently filed away knowledge.

So, fire.  A little.

Ok, fine.  She had fucked up her Power Word: Shield spell and accidentally- somehow- set the outside on fire.

It had worked!  _And_ she didn’t die.  Though she did wonder at the fire, as she was far more partial to frost as personal preference.

The nasty little buggers had dive bombed her and ended up catching their wing webbings on fire, which had grounded them and allowed them to remain stationary enough for Masa to hit them with his druid spells to hold them in place.  Then she gleefully stabbed them with her puny skinning knife.  The little buggers had strangely hardened scales, which their two tauren had taught Tanyth and Jarvis- who still was an unhelpful asshole- to harvest.

That first night under the stars had been uncomfortable, if beautiful.  The skies of Azeroth were clear and the moon as bright and majestic as she had always pictured Elune’s base of operations to be.  While they had some blankets- mostly the home woven affairs brought by Masa and Redda- they had needed to crowd together for warmth, as the night taught Tanyth the meaning of ‘hell freezing over’.

How could a place that was so hot get so damn cold?!  And the nighttime animal symphony was sort of creepy- at least until Masa’s snores drowned them out.  They were between the mountains-that-probably-weren’t-actual-mountains and the open savanna itself.  The earth beneath their rock formation campsite was fairly hard packed, but a lot of the area was loose sand, dirt, and the occasional hardy shrub or spiny cactus-looking thing.

Tanyth didn’t sleep much that night.  And it wasn’t just because Jarvis was hurting her feelings by trying to steal as much of her body heat as possible without actually touching her.

The next day, a very grumpy Tanyth had learned to fear the fury of plainstriders, ostrich-like birds who ran like hell and had beaks of doom.  Wielding the dagger that she had gotten for skinning, Tanyth had had a hell of a time taking down her juvenile plainstrider while Masa took out two adults like the professional badass he was.

Ok, so, Tanyth only got the best of her bird because it was stupid and tripped over its own long legs when she blinded it with a surprise flash of Light to the face.

It still counted!

The rest of day one was spent trudging over to the river that wound through the golden-red sands of the Barrens and then down below one of the not-actually-mountains then back to the little rock formation that they were calling home.  Masa’s plant canopy- with hardy earthroot and briarthorn making for a solid ceiling- was the perfect shield, and thus they filled the little four-or-five foot deep, wide rock hole at the back of the formation with water.  Useful for a plethora of reasons and far more convenient for them than the river itself, but filling their little reservoir was still exhausting, thankless work.

The rocks that were serving as the skeleton for their temporary home were of the packed dirt variety, with colored striations that reminded Tanyth of pictures Arizona, really.  The water hole was at the very back, with the enclosed campsite being about ten steps long and eight steps wide.  The druid-magic plants wove around and over several upright, freestanding rocky pillars.  The shade provided by their druid-coaxed plant life was wonderful during the day and at night the plants helped keep them warm!

Outside the campsite itself was a large, flat rock that served as their butchering table.  Another small recessed area was added- it was part of the back wall formation, but on the outside- where tonics that Redda made cooled the meat until it could be cut into strips and left out to dry or stored overnight.  The makeshift cooler kept their hard-earned game cool, dry, and most importantly not right next to them.

_Magic_. 

They might not have an overabundance of spells and power at their disposal, but damn if they weren’t creative with their resources.

Tanyth went outside to the flat rock the size of a kitchen table and learned to properly clean, section, and preserve her kills that very first full day in the wilds.  Her eighth day since leaving Stormwind.

It was…..educational.  And messy.  And smelly.  And more than a little gross.

But Tanyth was nothing if not grimly determined and Masa was a patient teacher.  So she learned how to know if a skin was useful, if a pelt was worth drying.  How to crush mageroyal and kingsblood into a paste and then reduce it into an oil to work into a dried, salted pelt.  How to properly salt and hang a pelt with the supplies available to her.  How to use sinew as thread and how to meld bones together to substitute for steel.  How to find copper, silver, and tin veins and scrape out the usable ore for trading.  How to use the tough grasses to make a mould for armor, to make it closer to fit without needing excessive fitting.

It was hard work that made her fingers bleed, but she found herself enjoying the process of learning.  But with every unpleasant step she made she felt a little more accomplished; a little more prepared.  If not the smells and her rebellious stomach objecting loudly to the harsh realities of life.  It wasn’t as if Tanyth had been blind as to how the circle of life worked prior to her introduction to Azeroth, but there was still an innocence lost moment that came with accepting responsibility for handling the remains of a formerly alive creature.

Also, scorpions were edible.  Mostly.

The tauren couple were a wonderful balm to her soul, despite her mental maturity.  Sometimes a person just needed their own common sense repeated back to them in someone else’s voice.

Nights were Tanyth’s favorite part, despite the close quarters with Mr. ‘I don’t feel like answering that’. 

The other three members of the party would chat, trading tales and stories- some far more believable than others- until they could no longer keep their eyes open.  Then they’d bank the bonfire out front and curl up on the ground under the few blankets they had, knowing that they would be up with the plainstriders at dawn.

Stupid ostrich wanna-bes and their morning gossip sessions.  According to Masa, it was the rainy season, so there was more plant life than usual dotting the savanna, which brought the birds closer to Ratchet than they usually would wander.  They were actually in sort of a buffer zone between the populated coast and the Barrens proper, and thus the tauren natives were planning on stocking up on dried meats before the group began their trek across the driest part of the savanna plains.

As someone who had very little experience in these sorts of conditions, Tanyth was more than happy to let them take point.

Still, those first few days were pretty nice.  Busy and somewhat exhausting, but still far better than being in Stormwind or Ratchet.  Especially since Tanyth spent most of her time with Masa while Jarvis-the-asshole helped Redda.  Tanyth was fairly certain the tasks had been divided the way they had been purely to keep her and Jarvis apart, but that was a-ok with her! 

Tanyth learned that she burnt a little easier out here, but between the Light and some cream Redda made, Tanyth didn’t suffer overmuch.

**\--XXX---**

Then on the fifth day out of Ratchet, life changed again.

Firstly, it started raining in the afternoon.  Rain in an arid area like they were in meant mudslides, but they were on a bit of a hill, so Tanyth hadn’t been overly concerned.

Though she did finally understand why Masa had been so insistent about the lip of briarthorn-earthroot on the ‘floor’ of their campsite, despite the fact Tanyth continually tripped over the damn thing.

No, not only was water falling from the sky like mad, she was in the process of fighting a cousin to the kodo.  That was kodo _dragon_ , so the damn thing had spikes everywhere, was twice her height, and had the temperament of an unhappy ‘I want to speak with your manager’ middleaged white woman at Starbucks.  Thankfully it had no wings, but she was still comically small in comparison.

A person’s natural survival instincts were wonderful when it came to ignoring size differences.  If desperation was the mother of ingenuity, being entirely outclassed in a fight for your life was the sister of the split-second opportunist.

Tanyth ducked, slipped in the sludge underneath her, and cursed as her Power Word: Shield popped under the attack from _dinner’s_ mouth.

“Fuck.”  She swore as she saw the stupid overgrown lizard take another breath, white-blue lightning coalescing inside its open maw.  Her shield needed a few minutes before she could use it again- it pulled from her strength of will, and to use it too often would permanently damage her.  Usually the ‘when’ of using it again came from no longer feeling slightly woozy and weakened, but more powerful, better-than-her people could use the shield for much longer and more often.

And shield others without needing to be nearly on top of them.  Tanyth always messed up her target if she or the other were both in motion.  Moreso when they were a fair distance away.

However, Tanyth was neither strong _nor_ talented, so she was going to have to improvise.

Thankfully she had a leather jerkin lined with bone and her bought-in-Ratchet pants and boots, but all she had for a weapon was her skinning dagger which…..wasn’t going to work.  Not with as thick as the hide on the damn thing was.

A quick glance before she dove out of the way- well slid mostly- and then rolled back when the lightning stopped sparking because, hey, _solid ground_ \- showed that Masa was still tied up with the pack of raptors they had been planning to hunt.  Raptors, like the name suggested, were t-rex looking dinosaurs, which meant thick hide and sharp claws.  There was a male, two females, and some little ones that had been tempted closer by some hyena meat- not good for drying but excellent as bait, according to Tanyth’s teacher- that would make wonderful hides for proper tents.

Hence why they had decided to hunt the damn things before Mr. Attitude showed up.

‘ _Wasn’t there a spell that conjured weapons?  Or was that Skyrim?’_   Tanyth thought somewhat hysterically as she vaulted into a crouch and then jumped back _into_ the sludge to avoid another bout of lightning.  The attack missed her- mostly- but now she was knee-deep in sand that was starting to try and pull her down, which didn’t bode well for her continued existence.

She was also tired.  Had been tired for as long as she could remember.  A different sort of exhaustion from being under Onxyia, but still enough for her limbs to feel like lead.  Her purple hair was plastered to her face and she didn’t even have the energy to push it out of her eyes- how was she supposed to win this fight, then?!

_‘I don’t want to die.’_   She realized as the beast lumbered towards her, its thick limbs having an easier time breaking the hold of the sucking sands than her skinny appendages.  Dinner stopped just short of her and opened its mouth and all she could think of was _‘I don’t want to die/I need a weapon/Not yet, please, not yet.  There’s so much I want to see!’_ and-

In her left hand, a spell she hadn’t known she knew flared to life- bright and brilliant, like the warm reassurance of a promise kept- and in her right a wobbly, misshapen weapon- its edge hearthfire red- appeared around her skinning knife, heavy like trying to lift five gallon bucket full of water. 

Tanyth didn’t even have the emotional energy to be surprised.  Or embarrassed at the entirely lopsided hardened energies that were probably supposed to be her attempt at a bound sword.  Or possibly dagger.  Claymore, maybe?

The sound of ominous crackling snapped her back into the present.

With a growl of defiance- _‘_ Not ready to die just yet, _asshole!’_ \- she launched the spell in her left hand right into the open mouth of the rhinoceros wanna-be, causing it to swallow its own attack as her spell expanded, flaring bright glass-gold as it battled with the former lightning attack.

Rearing up onto its hind legs as it howled in pain she allowed the sludge-sand to draw her underneath Dinner’s belly, aiming her sword-like, misshapen weapon with its molten red edge up at where she thought the heart would be.  The beast came crashing down sooner than she expected, slamming her into the sludge and shattering her makeshift weapon.

Tanyth couldn’t even scream as blood, sludge, and the beast’s howls of rage drowned out everything else, even her own thoughts.

Weight dropped onto her and her head slipped under the slush, causing her to panic.  She called upon her Power Word: Shield, and thankfully it allowed her a moment to scrape the sand away from her mouth to breathe, once she had retched up what she had swallowed.  Still sinking, she grabbed ahold of one of the beast’s hooves and _pulled_.

Mentally calculating how long she had left on her shield, she grimaced and kept frantically pulling at the hoof, trying to break the surface before the sludge found full purchase against her form in the absence of her shield.  Suddenly realizing that she still- somehow- had her skinning knife in her hand she stabbed the blade into the hoof- that was easier than she had been expecting- and heaved.

She found herself perpendicular to the side of a dead thunder lizard, submerged up to her waist in muck, holding a bent, ruined skinning knife.

Tanyth blinked stupidly at the dead carcass, sitting on the edge of a lightning hardened bit of sand.  “What?”  She asked the dead lizard dumbly, glaring at nothing in particular as she scowled.  “The fuck.”  She added a bit later as the sun came out from behind the clouds and shined down with all the cheer of a morning person in a house of nightowls.

“Tanyth!”  Redda shouted, sounding quite far away even though the tauren’s hands were on Tanyth’s shoulders.  “Tanyth answer me!”

“Huh?”  Tanyth replied thickly, strangely exhausted in a way she hadn’t been…..since that time with the Queen and the riot, actually.

She must have blacked out for a moment, because next thing she knew Redda was hovering over her, praying to the Earthmother and her ancestors for assistance.

When had she laid down?

“You’re awake!”  Redda exclaimed, shoving some melon juice at her and nearly drowning Tanyth in it.  “Thank the Spirits!”

“How-“  Wow she sounded like shit.  “How’s Masa?  He ok?”

“I’m fine, friend.”  Masa’s deep voice was comforting, though he sounded as tired as she felt.  “I apologize for not being able to lend you my assistance.”

Tanyth levered herself up onto her elbows and glowered with feeling at Redda’s shame-hunched husband.  “Masa how were we supposed to know the stupid overgrown lizard was going to show up?  The rain- ok we should probably work that into our plans from now on, but the lizard?  He popped up outta nowhere shooting off lightning and being an asshole and shit.”  Tanyth glared at the half-buried corpse behind her friend, who was looking at her weirdly.  “I’m going to wear that stupid overgrown lizard as a pair of _boots_.”  Tanyth nudged Masa with her sludge-crusted boot.  “And you, stop _pouting_.”

Masa opened his mouth and Tanyth glared at him.

When no help came from Redda, who merely looked amused at the turn of events, he sighed and nodded in acquiescence.  Begrudgingly.

“ _Awesome_.”  Tanyth grunted as she flopped back onto the hardened sand and groaned.  The winds were already picking up, harsh and scorching as ever, and it was making her feel microwaved.  “Now I need to change and then help clean our kills.  Redda-“  Tanyth pointed at her red-maned friend.  “-tonight I teach you about healing with the Light, k?”

The woman’s eyes gleamed with interest and she helped drag Tanyth up off the hardened sand- Tanyth absently noting that part of the impromptu platform had become pretty lightning glass- and chattered excitedly at the younger woman.

**\--XXX---**

“Well, the Light just is…..like the sun or the moon or the wind.”  Tanyth explained that evening, being slightly surprised that Masa seemed as interested as Redda.  Even Jarvis was interested, though he was pretending to be intently concentrating on some stitching project Redda was using to teach him how to sew.  “The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, so there is also the Void.  Archbishop Faol-“  Tanyth swallowed down the sense of loss and betrayal she felt towards the man and pressed onward.  “-my….mentor.  He believed that the opposite realm of the Light was Shadow, while the Void itself was the true antithesis of Light.  He….well, he thought that even the Light could be used for evil if one took its powers too far.  That the extremes- seeing the world in a purely black and white manner without any room for gradient shades- was just as dangerous as delving into the depths of the Void.”

“Hm.”  Masa hummed, his deep voice carrying easily in the twilight air.  The dark shift he wore at night was threadbare and patched with different little swatches of cloth in places.  It made him seem even more huggable than usual, for all his bulk.  “That is not so different from the principles of the druids, or even the shaman.”

“That all things exist in a balance.”  Redda continued her husband’s train of thought easily, her lighter amber eyes thoughtful as she leaned back onto her arms and stared at the darkening sky.  Her shift was much the same as her lifemate’s, only much longer, stretching over her crossed legs easily and pooling on the plant-floor beneath her.  “The teachings of the Earthmother are much the same.”

More used to her tauren’s habit of slowly digesting an idea or concept before choosing to act on it, Tanyth paced lightly.  Her fingers sparked with the brilliant gold of the Light and she watched it dance over her skin in splashes of cheerful yellow against the dark.  While Tanyth still held her faith the same as she had in previous life, she did wonder how the Light and Elune were connected.  Was Elune a Naaru- a being made of pure Light- or was the goddess a celestial being in a different manner?

Tanyth couldn’t deny that there was something.,….inherently magical in the way Azeroth’s moonlight dripped down from the sky.  It was soothing, like aloe on a burn or a warm cup of cider at two in the morning during the harshest parts of winter.  Tanyth vaguely remembered there being two moons- one named the White Lady and the other being the Blue Child or something- but she had only ever seen the one moon in the sky above.

Still, the moon gave her a peaceful, content sense of calm while the light of the sun invigorated her, making her feel empowered and righteous.

As stupid as that sounded.  Man, she was a _mess_.  Reborn into a world entirely unlike her own and yet clinging to the idea that there was a God- with a capital ‘G’- somewhere beyond all the craziness of worlds having souls and people being cursed into undeath by a physical plague.

Watching the Light skitter over her palms and fizzle out into cheery flashes against the night made her feel a bit _ludicrous_ , but she was what she was and that was that.  There was no need to overcomplicate something that merely was- at least to herself. 

Eh, she’d figure it out.

“So, how does one access the Light?”  Redda asked, drawing Tanyth back to the present, and causing her to cease her slow pacing.  The tauren woman’s eyebrows were drawn together as the night breeze ruffled her reddish mane, the beads on her braids clicking together quietly.  “I do not understand the how.”

Tanyth knelt down in the sand- well it felt a bit more like dirt, now- thankful that the afternoon heat had mostly dried it, though some wetness seeped through her less-than-stellar pair of leather pants.  At least her boots kept her feet dry.  “The Light answers the call of any who believe.”  Tanyth explained, tugging on her connection to the Light and letting it flow through her, causing a gentle glow to surround her hands.  The wind kicked up a little and Tanyth was grateful she had tied her hair out of her face for this conversation.  She placed her hands on Redda and closed her eyes, searching for her friend’s connection to the Light, like Archbishop Faol had done for her.

It was strange to sense Redda through the Light.  Tanyth’s consciousness floated along the woman’s earthy feeling sense of self, allowing the Light to call to the Light.

‘ _There_!’  Tanyth thought, a little surprised at how easily she had found Redda’s own connection to the Light.  Floating up to the steadily beating starburst pinpick of Light Tanyth brushed her own Light against it and then-

Then Tanyth was back in her own body, blinking away the spots in her vision, disoriented.

Across from her, Redda’s eyes snapped open and the woman smiled in awe.  “I feel it.”  She breathed, placing one of her sturdy hands over her heart as she blinked tears away from her eyes.  “It’s so _warm_.”

Tanyth smiled happily, strangely exhausted.  Her legs were numb, too.  She blinked at the sky, squinting a little before she turned to look at Masa, confused.  “It’s sunrise?” 

Masa tore his tender gaze from his wife to look at Tanyth and nodded, his dark mane shifting slightly.  “Indeed.  We watched over you both-“  He nodded towards Jarvis, who seemed both insulted _and_ irritated.  “-though it doesn’t surprise me that _An’she_ chose to wait until dawn to grant my love’s request to be closer to Her.”

“It’s so….. _peculiar_.”  Redda added, smiling affectionately at her husband before turning to gaze at Tanyth with bright, excited eyes.  “I cannot explain it….but I can _feel_ it.  Almost as if it was always there.  Like grandfather used to swear the elements spoke to him, only…different.  My mother and grandmother never described their awareness of _An’she’s_ Light this….intimately.” 

Tanyth grimaced as she slipped back onto her butt and stretched out her legs, wincing in pain as they protested the motion.  _Vehemently_.  If she ever did this again she was going to try to find a more forgiving position.  She shrugged at Redda, noticing the woman seemed to be searching for some sort of answer.  “Archbishop Faol always said that I had an unusually strong connection to the Light- that my grasp of the Light’s power was more….intuitive than most?  I have no idea what he meant, really, but I am able to, uh, _channel_ more power than most.  My control isn’t always the greatest, but…”  Tanyth let the statement trail off and shrugged a bit self-consciously, kicking her heels together and debating whether or not she should attempt standing up just yet.

Then again she was the only Acolyte at the Cathedral who could cast the arcane sealing spells, so she was a bit of a freak of nature.  The arcane didn’t come to her nearly as effortlessly as the Light, but apparently she could mash the two together if panicked enough so maybe she should explore that.

Instead of relying on brute force and luck all the time.

Tanyth climbed to her feet, wobbling like a calf and needing to snap her arms out to the hardened earthroot-briarthorn canopy to keep herself upright.  “Well, suppose I should get to work since its sunrise.  Man today is gonna _suck_.”

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

A couple months wasn’t an extraordinarily long amount of time, especially not when they were splitting their days with hunting-gathering and training.  Much to her confusion, Tanyth had assumed some sort of leadership role.

What the _hell_ did she know about leading people?

But Masa and Redda seemed perfectly content to let Tanyth make big decisions- like whether to make weapons or armor or supplies out of the leather they tanned and fitted.  The two tauren were fonts of information and Tanyth grew quietly exasperated with their stubborn belief that she was some sort of leader when they were quite painfully _obviously_ more suited for such a role.

Jarvis, the asshole, was still refusing to answer anything she asked him.  Though he had begun to make conversation with the two tauren, growing bolder after being ‘caught’ by Tanyth and her not doing anything but mutter insults under her breath about stupid, stubborn _idiots_.

Redda was flourishing as a budding wielder of the Light.  The tauren woman had fine control, though she had nowhere near Tanyth’s ‘reserves’.  Which just sort of proved to Tanyth that she was some sort of freak of nature. Though, to be fair, she had survived Onyxia and her beastly man-servant, so she had gone through a bit of a crucible to reach her level of physical tolerance for channeling the power of the Light.

At any rate, while Redda couldn’t exactly cast healing spells- of which Tanyth only knew the basics, because those were for fully initiated Priests- the tauren lady was quite happily able to perform the daily Seer rituals that she remembered her mother and grandmother performing.  It seemed to make Redda and Masa happier to have that connection to their lost tribe, and so Tanyth did her utmost to be respectful and not ask too many questions, though the part of her that loved hearing stories and legends _begged_ for more information.

Masa and Redda shared enough freely, and if they wished to stay mum and keep the secrets passed down from their ancestors to themselves, Tanyth would respect that.

Combat training was interesting, as it appeared that Tanyth was the one with the most technical expertise.  And truthfully she was a bit surprised at how much she managed to learn from Onxyia’s brute of a manservant, though she had been purposefully repressing that information until her tauren had nicely pointed out a few things that slipped by her.  Like her unconscious weight distribution and her ease in reading muscle movements.

Pulling on those memories purposefully, with the intent of untangling and using them, had troubled her greatly until Masa had pointed out- once she’d shared the reason for her reluctance to teach them combat techniques when they were getting ready to leave the relative safety that Ratchet provided- that her former guardians had been expecting her to break.   To become their tool in the end, so they had actually been grooming her for such a thing instead of just mindlessly pummeling her.

_“While I cannot say I am pleased to hear of_ how _you came by these techniques, I do not believe that you are considering the situation objectively.”  The male tauren had replied, his hands gripped a little too tightly to the axe they used to cut fat from animals with, his braided mane doing little to hide his outraged-on-her-behalf countenance.  “Those-“   There was some muttering in his native language before he continued in Common.  “- wrongdoers believed that they would break you.  That they were training a future ally.  Instead of feeling shame from how you learned the skills, I would suggest honing them.  Using their false assumptions against them.”  The sun-spotted tauren shrugged before raising the axe above his head, bringing it down with an almighty whack to cut free the last bit of fat from the wild pig they had hunted that morning._

So Tanyth had dug deep and started them with stretches, moving on to simple stances that they had to keep adjusting for height, as Jarvis was taller than Tanyth but shorter than Redda who was just a smidge taller than Masa, though the latter tauren’s horns made him appear taller than his wife.

It was a work in progress, but they were all more flexible and better able to handle tumbles now.  Tanyth suspected that Jarvis had some dance training that would help him step lighter, but as he still wouldn’t answer if she asked him…well, _anything_ , she didn’t press the subject.  Tanyth gave herself headaches trying to adjust his form without him doing anything to tell her whether it was comfortable or felt natural or not.

At least she was keeping her word; no matter how dearly she would enjoy _strangling_ the asshole.

Still, at the two month mark they had arcane-sealed bags of supplies, tents, armor, bone weapons, extra pelts and leathers, and enough waterskins to last them several days.  The rainy season was nearly over and now would be the best time to head out, as the Barrens would be dry but not at the height of the dry season.  They were hoping that they would be in Stonetalon before the _really_ hot days hit.

Also, Tanyth was feeling exposed.  Word of her bounty would have reached across the ocean and circulated by now and she wanted to get further away from the city.  Her hair dye was starting to lighten, but it was still a far cry from her natural blondeish-brown.  Masa said that there was a settlement about halfway across the Barrens that sat on an ancient road- supposedly built by the ancient Night Elves- that might have another hair dresser in it.

_‘So, here’s to hoping.’_    She thought somewhat fatalistically as Masa coaxed the last of their flowers back into travel-friendly sizes.  The druid had tried to explain a little about drawing power from the wilds and utilizing the arcane connection to the moon and sun, but it had all been fruitless in terms of Tanyth being able to replicate any of it. 

It had still been damn interesting to hear about, though.

“Well, here’s to safe journeys I suppose.”  Tanyth proclaimed with a laugh, rocking back onto her heels and grinning at her party from underneath her floppy hood.  Tanyth had trimmed down her cotton tunics to be underclothes, so while her outer layer was leather she wasn’t chafing and sweating like a pig.  She had even been kind enough to help Cupcake, though he had been less than properly appreciative.

Thanks to Redda their leathers were warm tan with dyed sections added as covers for the bone reinforcements or just decorative pieces. 

Tanyth, in particular, had a bright yellow-orange sun on the hood of her armor, with squiggles of other ‘sun colors’ decorating her arm bracers and trousers.  Her slightly-longer-than-her-arm bleached bone sword was attached near her hip.  It curved, so she could walk without stabbing herself in the foot.  Her shield was on her left arm, secured with leather straps and her backpack was secured high on her back, her hard-won bedroll secured underneath it.

Masa and Redda were wearing leather armor with bright green and white strips decorating it.  Masa had a few new beads in his braids, while Redda mane was well and truly red, tied up in a long braid and dotted with glass beads along its spine.  Tribe colors and personal colors, she had been told about their choice in bead colors and armor adornments.

Cupcake had actually filled out quite a bit, for all that he barely had managed to tint his pale skin a half shade darker.  Unlike Tanyth who was so tan she could easily pass for bronze, which she was very happy about.  Cupcake’s leathers were plain, save for the stitching which he had done in bright red.  His hair had held onto the crimson dye well, though it was a shade or two off from what it had been originally.

Save for the pulsing, irritating strip of arcane script on his face, he looked like just another traveler.

Tanyth shook her wandering thoughts away and spun on her heel, heading towards the striated sort-of mountain in the distance that Masa swore led to the Gold Road, which supposedly ran north-to-south the length of the entire continent.

After about an hour the wind kicked up, causing all of the party to tug their woven facemasks over their faces.  The masks were stitched into the inside of their hoods and folded up neatly in between the layers of leather when not in use.  The masks being woven meant they breathed a bit easier and blocked out more debris than a simple cotton mask.

Masa and Redda were awesome.

Walking through sand-dirt wasn’t nearly as difficult as it had been when she had first stepped out into the Barrens, but the further away from Ratchet they went, the more uneven the terrain became.  Sturdier, but more uneven.  She was thankful as anything that one of Redda’s ‘tonics’ was a salve that acted a lot like deodorant.  It was mostly a neutral scent, but it kept Tanyth from feeling like she permanently smelled like bad body odor.

They didn’t stop for lunch, eating their rations of dried meat and melon juice- a much better hydration source than plain water- in between especially strong gusts of wind that blasted through the striated mini-mountains they had to wind between.

By late afternoon Tanyth was feeling the burn, but she kept her head down and didn’t complain.  Her tauren and Cupcake were all at _least_ a head taller than her, so even though she was basically power walking, they were at a comfortable pace, which was all that mattered.  Mostly because all of Masa and Redda’s time estimations were from their perspective, so if Tanyth went at a pace that was comfortable to her short legs it would take at least twice as long to get where they needed to be.

They broke through the mini-mountains about an hour or two before twilight, and it was then that life laughed at Tanyth’s previously innocent thoughts of being able to rest soon.

There was a small war going on down the slope and just next to the road.

“Centaurs.”  Masa growled, unhooking his massive bone sword from his back and shrugging off his bags and bedroll.  “That’s a tauren horn!”  He swung around to glance pleadingly at Tanyth, who was in the process of unhooking herself from her own gear.  “We _must_ help them!”

“On it, big guy.”  Tanyth grunted, freeing herself of her burdens and plotting at light speed.  “Jarvis cover us with your bow if you can- Redda stay back, you’ll be needed to tend the wounded.  We’ll send the noncombatants this way.”  Tanyth hopped on Masa’s back.  “Let’s do this, Masa!”

The tauren let out a battle cry, lifting his weapon high above his head in challenge before he took off at a run, lowering his head and slamming into the behind of one of the demented looking centaurs.

Tanyth let go just before they made impact, sliding through the packed dirt on her shield and sprinting towards a group of three centaurs that had separated a group of what looked to be elderly and children.

These centaur towered over the tauren, so Tanyth barely came up to where their humanoid forms met their equine half.  These centaur had thick bands of gold or silver wrapped around their forelegs and wielded spears.

But there were advantages to being short so long as a person was patient.

Tanyth rolled up to her feet and ducked under a rearing charge with her, her bone sword blocking the spear aimed at her.  Counting down in her head, just like Masa had taught her, she twisted her body, throwing the centaur off balance and flicked a glance over her shoulder.  “Go!”  She shouted, blocking under another rearing charge and sliding away from a different centaur’s spear.  “Make for Redda and Jarvis, I’ll cover you!  _Go now!_ ”

Without glancing back to see if they had obeyed, Tanyth raised her sword and called upon the Light.  Just like she had been practicing for at least a month now, the power of the Light gathered just beyond the tip of her sword and rushed through her with all the force of a typhoon, setting the stone beneath her alight with pulsing, glowing power.  A rush of righteous wrath infused her as she marshalled her will and she struck, first at the weapons and then at the exposed appendages that she could reach.

Time blurred, save for repetitions of her spell and her endless dance.  She had several lacerations that stung something fierce, but she shrugged them off, more intent on ensuring her foes were put down.

It surprised her a little, how much easier fighting these centaurs was than the thunder lizard or any of the other animals she had been hunting.  Even with all of the extra appendages to dodge.  Then again they tended to back away when wounded, so when they fell it wasn’t right in her immediate fighting area.

The sun had well and truly set by the time Tanyth ran out of enemies to hack away at, and she doubled over, vomiting a little from overheating when she finally felt safe enough to do so.  When she came back to herself Jarvis was beside her, holding out a bottle of melon juice for her.

“Thanks.”  She muttered as she slowly downed the sweet drink, thankful that Masa had made that last supply run into Ratchet and had gotten a whole _case_ of the damn things.  She handed the bottle back to the impatient man, who then left without a word to help Redda.

“Tanyth!”  Masa called, and Tanyth slowly rose to her full height and made her way over to her gesturing friend and the gathered tauren.  “This is Chieftain Nam, of the Dawnstrider Tauren.”  Masa swung back to the mottled grey tauren with the black-as-night mane.  “This is my dear friend and leader of our party, Tanyth.”

“Greeting, traveler.”  The elder tauren with the decorative headpiece suspended between his bent, black horns said, bowing lightly to Tanyth- and seemingly pleased or indulgently amused when she reciprocated the motion.  “ We are grateful for your assistance.”

“Happy to help!”  Tanyth replied as cheerfully as she could manage.  Her arms felt like limp noodles and she might have cracked a tooth. Or maybe her jaw.

_Ow_.

Anything else she might have said was interrupted by the pounding of hooves on packed dirt and a female voice crying out, “Father!  They have a Seer!”

The older tauren blinked at the new arrival- a pretty tauren with the same colors as Chieftain Dawnstrider and white horns- and huffed; a heavy exhalation through the nose.  “Nata, daughter, we have not had a Seer since the Grimtotem tribe wiped out the Thunderhorn.”

“But she draws golden light to heal the wounded!”  His daughter protested, stamping a hoof in aggravation.  “It’s as gold and warm as the sun itself!”

The old tauren blinked slowly and settled ancient eyes onto Tanyth, who smiled somewhat sheepishly.  Reaching up to massage at the back of her slightly burned neck, her sword tucked away at her side, Tanyth did her best to smile confidently.  “I am a follower of the Light, and Redda was interested in learning how to draw strength from, well, the Light.  I helped her find the connection within herself to the Light, but everything else has been her honoring the memories of her mother and grandmother.”

“Oh?”  The Chieftain’s eyes narrowed in that annoying way of someone seeing into your soul before he nodded, beaded braids clinking together softly in the expectant silence that had fallen over those near enough to hear the conversation.

And with bovine ears, that area was basically _everyone_.

“Masa and Redda are looking for a tribe to take them in, as they are the sole survivors of theirs.”  Tanyth found herself saying, a sad sort of smile tugging at her lips.  “I have taught Redda really all I can, so I would appreciate it if you have someone to teach her properly in the ways of your people concerning the Light.”

“Hm.”  The old Chieftain hummed, still staring through her.  “I see.”  He turned his eyes towards the north, where Tanyth could just make out some fires flickering in the distance, then swung his head to look south, a scowl on his lips.  “We were traveling to the Crossroads in the hopes of encountering another tribe as the tauren use the little town to resupply fairly frequently.”

Tanyth was getting an itchy warning feeling.

“Two days ago we were attacked in the dead of night.  We repelled the attack, but it was just a diversion.”  A tauren woman with half a left arm said, stepping closer to the group, some brightly colored beads clutched in her remaining hand.  “And it was only after that we-“

“They took our younglings!”  Another old woman cried, stepping forward to clutch at Tanyth’s arms.  “Please!  Almost all of our fighters chased after them, but they haven’t caught up to us yet.”  Tears shimmered in her eyes and she ducked her head, her mane falling over her face like a shroud.  “Please, you must help us!  It might already be too late!”

Tanyth sighed quietly, sternly telling herself not to sulk.  “Do you know where they were taken?  Your younglings?”

The old woman looked up at the Chieftain, who nodded slowly, his wise eyes still fixed on Tanyth.  “We call them the Wailing Caverns, a network of caves under the heart of the Barrens that the druids believe holds the secret to rejuvenating the land.  A handful of years ago some druids entered the place, but never returned.  The centaurs have taken up residence in the outer caves in recent years, as the Lushwater Oasis is not far to the north of the caves’ entrance.”

Without looking at Masa’s face Tanyth knew what her answer would be.  “Well, let’s get to it, then.”  She sighed, looking to Masa and asking, “Do you know how to get there?  Because I sure as hell don’t.”

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth- bandaged and healed up as best as Redda could manage- ended up with Masa, Cupcake, and two of the Dawnstrider Tauren. 

There was Mot, who was as tall as Masa and had grey and white fur with a modest set of grey horns.  Then there was his cousin, Teg, who was mostly tan and brown, with slightly curved, forward pointing brown horns.  Both tauren were grimly silent and angry, giving terse answers to any questions.

They all- save for Cupcake, who was still his usual asshole self- seemed fully intent on Tanyth being the nominal leader.  Even though _she_ wasn’t the one who had any idea of where they were going!

Torches carried by the two Dawnstrider Tauren- they were enchanted, which was sort of the Dawnstrider’s thing Tanyth had found- kept the ancient, wide road bathed in light as they all jogged onward.

Well, Tanyth jogged.  Everyone else was merely walking quickly.

They rounded a curve with a rocky outcropping jutted out over it and Tanyth could see the greenery of the oasis in the distance.  By the time they reached the edge of the greenery- a veritable green paradise surrounded by an ocean of nihility- they could see campfires and torches burning.

They could also hear the partying.  With horns, drums, and a celebratory cadence of hoofbeats against the rich earth.

Tanyth made a motion just before they entered the green and the tauren snuffed their torches out.  Trying to step as lightly as she could, she led them through the thick vegetation, darting between trees and using the shadows of shrubbery to conceal their presence.  Elune’s domain was nearly halfway across the sky and that meant they didn’t have a whole lot of time left.

Warily she peered around a tropical tree- ‘ _did pineapple grown on trees?  Nevermind!  Not important!’_ \- and risked a glance before ducking back into the shadows.

There were……a lot.

“Ok.”  Tanyth breathed into the night air, anticipation and anxiety warring for dominance inside her chest.  Her poor heart was going to quit its job soon, if she didn’t calm down!  Hopefully she could keep up the energy, though.  She could feel her weariness patiently waiting to be acknowledged just outside her racing thoughts.  “There are way more of them than us.”  She glanced over her group and bit her lip as she strategized.  “I’m close quarters, Jarvis and Masa can use a bow, and you two are all melee types?”

The centaur were holed up in a rather neat clearing and she could see the previously-described cave entrance to the Wailing Caverns just beyond the encampment.

Mot- the grey and white tauren- shook his head negatively.  “I am also a long-range fighter.”  He huffed a heavy breath through his nose, a rather bovine sound for all his humanoid features, and added.  “My mace is only a last resort.”

“For all of us.”  Teg- the mostly brown tauren- huffed, turning soulful brown eyes towards Tanyth.  “I use a sword, but I have no shield.  My sword also burns my enemies, however.”

“Hm.  Alright.”  Tanyth replied, pointedly not sighing in exasperation as she pondered their options.  “Ok…this is what we’re going to do.  Jarvis, you climb up the tree and ready what arrows you have.  Teg, Mot you guys circle around directly opposite us.  Grab a rock or coconut or something and throw it- as hard as you can- _towards_ our position.  This will- theoretically- make them look this way.  I’ll light the area up with a burst of Light and hopefully we can thin down the herd before they can recover and organize.”

It was a _shit_ plan.  Tanyth knew it was a shit plan.  And yet everyone went along with it!  Though to say that Jarvis was less than thrilled with her plan was an understatement, but he shimmied up the prickly bark of the tree without argument.  Teg and Mor peeled off from the group and headed around the encampment, clockwise. 

Tanyth should have remembered first contact rules.

Mot and Teg couldn’t have even gotten halfway around the clearing before the sounds of battle rang out against the dark.

“Apparently we’re improvising!”  She yelled, drawing attention to them just before she threw out her sword hand and slammed her eyes shut.  Once she stopped channeling the Light into her palm she reached down and drew her bone sword and charged.

Well, power walked.  She didn’t want to trip over anything.

Her armor absorbed a few arrows from the centaur and her shield had at least three arrows sticking out of it before she reached the stupid, savage horse-men.  From there she hacked and slashed and blocked and tried to keep an eye out for anyone coming up into Masa’a blind spot, as they were back to back.

_‘Power Word: Fortitude!’_   She incanted silently, pleased when the blue-fire, split-second flash lit up the area for an abbreviated moment.  The Power Word pulled from her resolve and, in theory, would bolster her endurance.  Talented clerics could cast the enhancement spell on whole platoons, but Tanyth wasn’t talented like that.

The cold of the night stained her cheeks red while the thrill of battle lit a fire inside her.  A good thing too, as the adrenaline gave her a rush of unexpected vigor, her tiredness allowing her to fall back onto trained responses more than overly analyzed, deliberate ones.

_Slash.  Sidestep.  Parry.  Overhead strike.  Shield bash.  Consecrate.  Follow through.  Advance._

Tanyth lived every moment of the battle.  She felt every scrape that broke her skin, noticed the areas that were already bruised being impacted time and again, and tasted the blood in her mouth from her teeth biting into her cheek.

But at the same time, she didn’t.  She was an outside observer, filing away smaller observations and adjusting her stance and weight without conscious control.

It was…..oddly split.  Like a youtube video with a delay in the audio.

Eventually Teg and Mot broke through the advance line- she should have considered that the encampment would likely have hidden sentries- and the remaining centaur fled to the west, leaving the ruined camp and their fallen.  Not all the felled centaur were dead, though.

“Tell where the prisoners are and I will ease your passing.” Tanyth ordered a downed enemy with far more bravado than she actually felt.

The centaur bared its teeth at her and tried to kick out with its powerful forelegs, but Masa stomped on the undamaged leg before the horse-man could get his body to fully commit to the action.  “You’ll never reach them!  And soon my kin will return to avenge me!”  He sneered, blood bubbling out from the inside of his ruined mouth.

Tanyth killed him.  Sword through the neck.  It was easier than it should be, but she didn’t have time to dwell on that right now.

She moved to the next prisoner grimly.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing!!! I adore you so much! **hugs**
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the 'surprise'~!

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

The Wailing Caverns were actually quite beautiful.  They were a series of caves full of dangling crystalized rocks that shimmered in the light that danced off the tranquil, tiered pools of water.  There was trailing greenery that brushed the floor and kept going, creating sort of a carpet on the stone. 

The Caverns were soothing; enthralling.

However……

Lurking beneath the decidedly pleasing aesthetics and tranquil sanctuary, something malevolent stirred.  It tinged the deepest pools with swirls of dark crimson and warped the vines beneath the pretty ivy into something vaguely sinister.

It made Tanyth’s sense of danger perk up and take notice, and she was grateful that they didn’t have to travel into the deeper caves, the ones that led to the heart of the Caverns.

The centaur were actually fairly clever in how they hid their tauren captives- complete with some rather angry ambush guards- but in the end Tanyth and company had secured the site.  Well after dawn they found the captive tauren trapped inside a hollowed out section of stone that was blocked with a great boulder.  It took some serious effort for her tired group to move the thing, but they managed.

By the time group had properly treated injuries and accounted for everyone, Tanyth was _exhausted_.  But she couldn’t stop, not when everyone insisted in looking to her for direction, despite her protests.

In the end she was unwilling to set up camp so near to the site of a battle.  Fearing reinforcements- and knowing they likely wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight in their present condition, numbers notwithstanding- Tanyth had mustered her weary bones and organized everyone into a march.  No one was happy about it- least of all Mot and Teg; even Masa protested- but they bowed to her leadership.  Ungracefully.

Tanyth was of the private opinion that they were more than welcome to take up the mantel of leadership, but no one took her up on the offer.  No matter how many times she- mostly politely- threw her personal opinion out for consideration.

Truthfully Tanyth hated _herself_ a bit as she trudged through the early morning sunlight, two small tauren children tied to her back.  But she also knew that she was far too tired to be much use in a battle and the longer they stayed the higher the likelihood the escaping centaur would gather allies and counterattack.

So they marched.  Slowly.

The nearly fifty strong party snaked a line nearly a city block long as they plodded down the Gold Road towards the Crossroads.  Twice they had to stop to care for injuries- and one elderly tauren died just about halfway there- but they managed to reach the Crossroads- a small settlement with rough buildings and goblin Bruisers patrolling the single-street town- just before noon.

At that point Tanyth could barely keep her eyes open, having been up for nearly a day and half and well and truly at her limit.

Woodenly she gave her report to Chieftain Nam, handing off her burdens to their families.  Then, before the Chieftain could say anything- or someone could spark an argument about her causing one tauren’s death- she spun on her heel, grabbed Jarvis, and made for the Inn.  The Inn only had one dinky room for rent- and one without a window no less- but she paid the copper pieces for it and soon found herself dead to the world.

**\--XXX---**

She slept like the dead, for once.  Usually she only managed to go half a night without a nightmare, though she usually was able to fall back to sleep afterwards.  Her most recent sleep, however, had been so deep she hadn’t moved for over a day.

“Come again?”  She hoarsely asked Jarvis, who had been the person annoying her with words.  Tanyth didn’t even have the strength to open her eyes.

“You’ve slept for nearly a whole day.  You must drink and eat _something_.”  Jarvis was saying, sounding….worried?

Tanyth must have scrambled her brains more than she thought because it actually sounded as if _Jarvis_ was concerned.  For her.  Which was stupid because he _hated_ her.

The march should have kept her from suffering brain damage from a concussion, right?

A glass was pressed to her lips, insistently, no matter how many times she reared away from it.  Eventually a hand slipped behind her head and the melon juice was poured between her protesting lips.  Slowly enough to not choke her, but demanding enough that she could either drink or wear it.  At first she felt as if she was going to vomit, but the more she drank the easier it became to keep down.

Someone whined pathetically as the glass was withdrawn, and it took her a good five blinks to realize that _she_ had made that pathetic sound.

“You _must_ eat.”  Jarvis the asshole was saying and she cracked her eyes open a slit, only to slam them shut again a fraction of a second later.

_Ow_.

A wooden spoon- she hated the things, they smelled weird- was pressed to her lips and instead of fighting she obediently opened her mouth and took in the bland soup.  It was thicker than she had been expecting and tasted odd, but it was soothing on her scratchy throat.

For a good while there was only the insistent press of a soup laden spoon at her lips and her obediently drinking down the thick, slightly gamey liquid and occasional soft vegetable.  Eventually the spoonfuls grew less full and she could hear the scraping of wood against wood and she was just so _tired_.

Hands patted at her face and she whined.  “Leave me alone.”  She mumbled, falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers tight against her.

There were more words but Tanyth wasn’t really listening, well on her way back to sleep when someone- Jarvis most likely- ripped her blankets away from her, sending her crashing to the floor.  Face-first because Cupcake was an asshole.

The rough floor wasn’t actually that bad, she decided, her too-warm cheek pressed flush against the scratchy surface.  Then-

“Shit!”  Tanyth stifled the scream out of reflex, but she pitched onto her side and pulled her right calf up towards her chest, a charlie horse cramp making her brain melt a little.  She massaged the muscle and kept her breathing as steady as possible while she tried not to cry and for a long moment she rather hysterically wondered if she had never left Stormwind at all, and if all of this had just been a feverish dream and-

She fell back into blissful unconsciousness.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Kannan hitched Tanyth’s form up a little higher, wishing he had an extra set of hands to readjust the arms that kept slipping off his shoulders.  The midday sun seemed to be shining down extra brightly on him and the red sands blurred orange in the sweltering, unforgiving heat.  There were some dunes a ways away, they could camp behind them for the night.  Hopefully Tanyth would wake up properly sometime this afternoon so he could- could-

Well, try and explain and throw himself at the feet of Tanyth’s generous nature?  Hope that the only person who had ever truly treated him as a person- an equal- would forgive his past transgressions _including lying directly to her face_ and being an obnoxious asshole?

That sounded pathetic, even to him.

See, Kannan had only been s _omewhat_ honest with Tanyth when they had first met.  Well, first met when she was in any condition to remember him.

His father actually _was_ a powerful mage in Dalaran.  Actually Kelo’reem of the First Council was one of the original High Elves who had helped found Dalaran nearly two millennia ago.  Kannan’s father had spent nearly five hundred years on the Council of Six before he had decided that politics were overrated and retired.  And the man _did_ have a thing for pretty human women, just like he had long perfected the art of deflecting bad publicity.

It’s just…..

The labor cartels didn’t deal in children.  Not unless those children willingly agreed to it.  So, his father hadn’t sold Kannan into slavery; Kannan himself had. 

As per his mother’s agreement with Kelo’reem she received a generous monthly stipend for Kannan’s care and Kannan went to the only private school in Dalaran that accepted halfbloods.  Kannan still suffered- all halfbloods did- but he wasn’t as bad off as most.  And for the next decade- his mother and Kelo’reem parted ways when he was five- he and his mother had a pretty good life, all things considered.

She tended to ‘forget’ to introduce him to her friends and he learned to stay in his room or out while she entertained guests, but his needs were taken care of.  He had a roof over his head, food, and a decent education; much more than most halfbloods, as his mother had often reminded him.

Then his mother had graduated from Dalaran’s Violet Arcane Academe and joined the Kirin Tor. 

The Kirin Tor were….well, they were basically Dalaran’s….eh, excuse him, the _Kingdom_ of Dalaran’s subjects.  The Kirin Tor’s Council of Six ruled over the violet city- everything was either ivory or a shade of purple in the damn place; the streets _glittered_ \- from the Violet Citadel.  All the guards and official branches of the city were considered part of or answered to the Kirin Tor as well.  Perhaps the shopkeepers and the like were considered differently, but he had never bothered to distinguish them from the Kirin Tor.

Then, in her new job as an Archivist at the Kirin Tor Annals which put her inside the Violet Citadel, his mother found herself a _proper_ husband.  A man of decent importance among the ranks of the Kirin Tor Peacekeepers.  And that had been the problem, really.  The man was many things and most prevalent among them was being a vulgar, particularly _opinionated_ bigot.  Kannan’s mother was so enamored with the asshole that she had-

Well, she had given Kannan an ultimatum and his selling himself to into Indentured servitude to get the hell away from Dalaran and the human kingdoms had been his response.

Hey, getting out of Dalaran and having job prospects that would keep him from starving to death had been a legitimate concern.  There wasn’t much work for halfbloods that didn’t come from family connections or from those who would overlook just who happened to be creating their products in exchange for the labor being dirt cheap.  The goblins, on the other hand, did a great deal of subcontracting.  They cared for profit, which meant they had no time for things like blood superiority and costly prejudice.

So the goblin cartels were actually his best bet, as Indenturing to them would allow him access to a ready-made network of possible employers.  True, he couldn’t do work for anyone _but_ the approved cartel proxies until his service was over, but that was sort of expected from shrewd businessmen looking to maximize their profits.   The payoff, in theory, was that if he did good work by the time he was free and clear he would have his own contacts and job prospects.

As a side note, he learned his first lesson about dealing with goblins: if the deal seems easy, it’s a bad one.  For you.

Kannan had Indentured himself to a goblin just south of the notorious Circle of Wills that everyone knew by warlocks, even though Nethermancy was illegal in Dalaran.  The Underbelly was where Dalaran shoved their undesirables, and it showed.  Vagrants, washed up mages, and demon-summoning warlocks roamed the mostly dark, dimly lit tunnels below the city, left to police themselves as even the Peacekeepers had washed their hands of the place.  Kannan- nearly sixteen and thoroughly caught between teenage angst and a lifetime of being an unwanted stain in a city obsessed with perfection- sat himself across from a crafty green, greedy-eyed goblin and listed his selling points: script mage, proficient in three Eastern Kingdom languages and five Arcane ones, pretty for a halfblood, and full of the need to get the hell out of Dalaran.

_Yesterday_.

Five hundred gold for his soul and a slightly unstable portal to Booty Bay- the goblin stronghold at the southernmost point of the Eastern Kingdoms- later and he realized that he had vastly overestimated his worth.  He had originally figured that it would take him maybe six months to pay off his debt but- well.  That was before he had gotten away from Dalaran’s oppressive purple perfection and into the ‘real world’.  His magic was largely of no use to his new goblin masters- he was a gifted script mage; but Kannan sucked at offensive spells, invocations, evocations, longform incantations, and conjurations - and he didn’t have the physique to make it as a Gladiator.

Not to mention that Gladiator fighting was a one on one to-the- death match.  Lucrative but with a fifty-fifty chance of dead.

Uh, no thank you.

So he had floated from one Indentured-approved employer to another, and after six years of smiling falsely as he served as pretty arm candy or spending months locked away toiling over books and scrolls- usually making counterfeits or ‘editing’ translations- he paid off his debt to the cartel.

Only-

Life after that had been much the same as before.  No one wanted him as a ‘permanent’ employee- which would put a roof over his head and let him establish residency somewhere- or even as a long term companion.  So it was the same types of jobs, only without the comforting thought of there being a finish line to cross.

The arcane script on his face was the result of a night full of too much Bruiser Malt and the culmination of a three year long tryst with a warlock.  The marking actually pulled in and stored arcane energy into a pocket dimension behind his left eye- the length came from trying to stabilize the damn thing when he had sobered up, partnerless, and realized he had been used in an attempt to permanently bind a denizen of the Twisting Nether to a fixed person without the need for a summoning, theoretically eliminating the need for the lengthy summoning spell to call a being from the Twisting Nether to the warlock’s side.

It sounded stupid to sober-him, too.  Drunk-him had apparently found the idea to be _brilliant_.

Kannan was damn lucky he hadn’t blown himself up and that he _was_ a gifted script mage, elsewise he would have eventually been torn apart by the original script’s connection to the Nether.

Stupid life-altering moment of clarity passed, he had drifted.  Listless.  From Booty Bay across the sea to Gadgetzan- which was south of Ratchet- and then up to Ratchet.  He landed in the service of the Venture Company- one of the various goblin cartels, there was over a hundred of them, though each cartel owed fealty to a bigger one, all the way up to one of the three shadowy Trade Princes- after he spent some time in Ratchet’s jail, unable to pay his fine after being drawn into a bar fight that ended up being broken up by the Bruisers. 

The Ratchet arm of the Venture Company sprung him based on his reputation with the Venture Company cartel as a whole as a talented forger and he had been working as a waiter and forger for them for nearly a month before Tanyth had stumbled into the private club.

Really, the only thing Kannan had been entirely honest about with Tanyth was that she had actually downed nine Ratchet Regrets which honestly _should_ have been impossible. 

The Venture Company specifically used the brothel as a place to sweeten business deals.  It really didn’t matter what race a person was- with enough drink and lust in them, they could make terrible decisions in record time.  His employers had sent him to the uncomfortable, painfully-out-of-place looking human girl to try and draw her into their debt.  The fact that she was trespassing was of little concern to them until she moved to leave before he even had a chance to lay on the charm.  It was only at that point that Kannan’s boss had tried the whole ‘you’re trespassing you owe us something, how about a wager’ angle with the Ratchet Regrets.

Tanyth had been entirely unimpressed with their posturing. 

Goblins were many things, but a deal was a deal.  Trivack had offered her something ‘valuable’ as a reward- mostly out of obligation- and as Kannan was the most inexpensive, sufficient reward in the establishment the remaining time on his contract had been offered as Tanyth’s ‘prize’.

The _very_ inebriated girl had been quite incensed with the idea of a person being a reward and Kannan had ushered her out before anyone could correct her misconceptions.

His contract had only had a fortnight left on it, so he had improvised a story.  Figuring that he could get the stupid kid- she had one of those fancy enchanted bags that were popular with the higher end clients, so he guessed her to be a rich daddy’s girl going through a rebellious phase- to believe he was some sort of personal slave and get a free ride for a while.  The fact she woke up entirely blank about the previous night’s events had only made the deal easier.

Then she had tried to be all noble and it had _pissed_ him off.  He knew what pretentious, religiousy types were like underneath the rhetoric and with the lights off and he became invested in annoying her into showing her true self, beyond the pious act.

And yet, here he was, free and clear, trudging through the burning sands of the Barrens with the most infuriatingly kind person he had ever met slung across his back.

What the hell was he doing?!

When one of the tauren- not Masa or Redda, but one of the ones _Tanyth_ had _rescued_ \- had sold her out to the bounty hunters staying at the Inn Kannan had immediately planned to leave.  He had finished his evening meal and quietly left without attracting attention to himself, gone up to their room and went for his bag.

But then he had hesitated.  His gaze had fallen on the exhausted form resting on the bed, wisps of violet hair fanning across her face.  She wasn’t pretty or beautiful- though she was sort of cute in an awkward duckling sort of way.  And Kannan hadn’t been able to banish the past few months from his mind.

Of her calling him an asshole under her breath even while she made sure he didn’t freeze to death.  Her exasperated, but amused expression when he refused to answer her questions.  Tanyth’s thoughtful and perceptive care of his needs even though he hadn’t done anything to truly deserve her kindness.  She bitched, but she never gave up.  Never tried to dodge the, (false; _entirely false_ ), responsibility of caring for him.  How dedicated she was to ‘helping’ him, even though she had no obligation nor duty to a halfblood con artist.

Kannan hadn’t been able to look away from the thick, white scars that stood out starkly against her tanned, bared shoulders.  After roughing it in the dirt of the Barrens for two months he knew what her back looked like, too; a latticework of scars that ran from the base of her neck all the way to her damn knees.  They were all different thicknesses, lengths, and depths but they told a story- one of _actual_ _suffering_ and endurance.  The scars were a testament to her fortitude and dedication.  And he just-

_Couldn’t_.  Couldn’t leave her there and condemn her to be returned to whoever had done that to her.

(Tanyth was so very, very _bright_.  Bright and warm and kind and strong and while he was a lowlife and a cheat and hadn’t done _anything right ever_ Kannan had been unable to just walk away from the only person who had ever offered him honest companionship.  Partnership.  _Kinship_.)

His gaze lingered too long, and before he knew what he was doing he had packed their things and swung her up into his arms.  He slipped down the stairs and out the backdoor and kept walking.  He walked out behind the dunes behind the Crossroads and then followed the stars.  He followed the stars until they gave way to the pinks of the morning sun and then the heat of the midday, trying to get Tanyth as far away from her pursuers as possible and maybe even earn himself a bit of goodwill in the process.

Tanyth stirred, her breaths hot on his neck as her arms finally came up to hold onto him properly.  “Jarvis?”  She mumbled into his shoulder.

“You’re a terrible influence.”  Kannan managed to say evenly, relief heavy and warm in his chest.  “And you’re going to kill me.”

“Hmm?”  She mumbled, head lolling to rest on his right shoulderpad.

“Just…..let me get us behind the dunes and I’ll tell you.”  Kannan replied, ignoring the little voice inside that pointed out that he was blatantly stalling.

“’kay.”  Tanyth answered, eyelashes fluttering rapidly above the splash of freckles high on her cheeks as she squinted against the glare of the sun.  “Where’s Masa?  Redda?”

“Later.”  Kannan told her, hitching her up a bit higher and ignoring her mumbled questions from there on out.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Kannan’s story took until well after sunset, the highly uncomfortable half-elf using the excuse of setting up camp to keep his hands busy and not look at her for most of it.

Tanyth rested her elbows on her upraised knees and stared blankly at Jarvis-Cupcake-Kannan, her sore back against the warm rocks that shielded their campsite from the road.  “So.”  She said flatly, ignoring the way Jarvis-Cupcake-Kannan flinched at the blank tone, his whole face illuminated by the campfire between them.  “Let me get this straight.  You’re not actually a slave- you’re a _conman_.  A conman who intended to con _me_ and took advantage of my blank memory to ingratiate yourself into my good graces with a sob story?”

“Basically.”  Kannan replied, crossing his arms across his chest and trying to keep his ears from twitching.  They always gave away his nervousness, stupid elf ears.

“And, in addition to all that pleasant news.”  Tanyth continued wryly, leaning her head back against the rocks and staring up at the sky.  “Masa and Redda joined the Dawnstrider Tauren- one of which sold me out to a bounty hunter that came into the Inn.”

“Well, the tauren heard about your bounty from when Masa informed the Chieftain.”  Kannan corrected, earning himself an irritated glare.  “Masa and Redda were trying to get us- _you_ permission to travel with the tribe.”  Kannan winced a little and tried to soften the blow a bit.  “With the death of that one elder tauren on the way back there were some, uh, objections…..”

Tanyth closed her eyes and tried not to cry, letting her mind run wild with what ifs and doubts.  “Yeah.  I could see that.”  She sighed heavily and opened weary eyes to stare hopelessly at Kannan.  “So, what, _you’re_ leaving too?”

She watched, dully, as Kannan’s brows drew together in consternation.  “I assumed you would send me away…..after knowing the truth.”

Tanyth stifled a sob and drew herself into a smaller ball, bringing her knees to her chest and hiding her face in her knees.  “I’m in the desert, alone, with all manner of things that would love to murder me and _now_ I find out that the purpose I thought I had found- the purpose that helped me leave Ratchet and learn to eke out a life as a nomad- was a _lie_.”  Her resolve broke and Tanyth indulged the urge to cry.  “I haven’t- I can’t do _anything_ right, can I?”

Hands grabbed her and pulled her forward and onto her knees, but Tanyth kept her head down and cried bitter, disgusting self-loathing tears.

“-mit listen to me!”  A hand left her arm and tilted her face up. 

Looking at Jarvis-Cupcake-Kannan’s stupidly pretty features, Tanyth felt anger.  Not the usual cleansing rush of righteous anger, but black, molten rage.  Balling up her free arm she swung out at Kannan’s face-

(Did she really want to indulge such black wrath?  After all she had endured, was she going to give in now?)

-only she couldn’t punch him in the face, not when there was actual malice in the gesture- so she let her sloppy punch hit him in the soft tissue below his collarbone.  A hit with more hurt behind it than in it.  “You’re an _asshole_.”  She informed him through hiccupy sobs.  “I _hate_ you.”

“Fair enough.”  Jarvis-Cupcake-Kannan answered, sounding resigned.

“That’s why you’re going to teach me magic.”  Tanyth found herself saying, glaring up at her unwitting companion and sitting back on her haunches; reaching over to her backpack to retrieve a waterskin and some cloth to clean herself up with.  “And how to read and write Thalassian and whatever else and you’re _not allowed to leave_ until I decide that I’ve _forgiven_ you for _lying_ to me!”  The end was more of a pitiful whine than the strong, bold proclamation she had been going for and she refused to look up at the stupid idiot, fearing that she would die of embarrassment.

_‘“The Light abandons no man” my ass.’_  Tanyth thought angrily as she wet a cotton cloth and cleaned her face, feeling positively mortified and foolish.  “You get first watch.”  She informed her companion shortly, digging out some dried meat and handing some over to stupid Kannan, who took it silently.  “We’ll talk about where we go from here in the morning, you- you- _stupid_ _jerk_!”

Then she set up her sleeping bag and laid down- her back to Jarvis-Cupcake-Kannan and the fire- glaring daggers at the rock wall.

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth spent maybe an hour or two being angry and feeling sorry for herself before her emotions cooled and she just felt empty.

_‘Way to go idiot.’_  She taunted herself miserably.  _‘You survived three years of Onxyia to be taken in by a conman.  And then- even better- you got a tauren killed and managed to make enemies out of friends.  You’re such a screw up!’_

She let herself beat up….herself for a while before she grew tired of the endless cycle and gave herself a metaphoric swift kick in the ass.  ‘ _So what are you going to do now?’_

Jarvis-Cupcake-Kannan had lied and manipulated her- two things she _despised_ \- but he had also walked all night and a whole day through the scorching, desolate Barrens to keep her safe.  And that was no small feat.  Nor was it a minor gesture of goodwill and apology.

She sighed heavily and flopped onto her back, tossing her arm over her gritty eyes.  “Ugh.”

“Tanyth?”  Jarvis-Cupcake-Kannan inquired, hesitantly.

Tanyth hated the fragile sound.  It didn’t suit the bastard.

She tipped her head to the side and glared at him half-heartedly.  “You’re an asshole.”  She decided to inform him- because it really did need to be pointed out regularly.  “But you’re not-“  She huffed and closed her eyes, trying not to cry.  “You’re not an _irredeemable_ asshole.  And you can keep me from falling for the _next_ pretty idiot’s stupid sob story.  So I guess we’re stuck together.  _Asshole_.”

“…did you just call me pretty?”  Kannan asked blandly, sounding more like his usual assholeish self.

Tanyth tossed him a disgruntled, withering glower.  “ _That’s_ what you took away from that exchange?”

From across the fire, perched on a smaller boulder, the jerk gave her a brilliant, cheeky grin.  “Of course.”

Despite herself- and this shithole of a situation- Tanyth laughed, the sounds bright and clear in the night air.  Cutting herself off before she could fall into hysterical laughter she wriggled out of her sleeping bag and dragged it and her backpack over beside Kannan, tossing her backpack against his boulder and plopping her oh-so-done self down onto her bunched up bedroll.  “So….tomorrow is going to _suck_.  You should get some rest.”  She wrinkled her nose a little.  “Apparently I was out for most of two days the last time I pulled an all-nighter.”

Kannan slouched, sliding off his rock and settling down next to her in the dirt, the sounds of the night filling the mostly-comfortable silence between them.  “I am a halfblood, dear.  And fully grown.  I deal with long stretches of time awake better than most humans.”

“You’re part Highborne, right?”  She asked, leaning over and lounging against Kannan. 

All his general asshole-ness kept him warm, she was certain of that fact.

“High Elf.”  Kannan corrected gently, taking a piece of dried meat Tanyth offered and chewing on it idly.  “My old man isn’t too bad, really.  Not great, but not a total dick.  He’s-“  Kannan did some mental calculations, swallowing his mouthful of snack before continuing.  “The Highborne were basically Queen Azshara’s Court.  Kal’dorei nobles.”

“Wasn’t Queen Azshara the only Queen who ruled all of the kaldorei?”  Tanyth asked somewhat idly.  “There were a lot of civil wars among the kaldorei, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”  Kannan agreed, snagging another piece of dried meat from Tanyth. “For sure.  Nowadays the term ‘kal’dorei’ refers to the Night Elves of Mount Hyjal, but it actually means ‘children of the stars’ in Old Darnassian.  Supposedly the name my people took when they discovered the Well of Eternity.  The Eternal Palace that once overlooked the Well of Eternity- a massive font of power built into the center of the original continent of Kalimdor- was said to be an unearthly sight.  Combined with their worship of Elune……”  Her narrator looked up towards the moon thoughtfully as he continued.  “According to my childhood tutors- “The Eternal Palace was constructed using arcane magic that melded both stone and forest into a single, cohesive form.  Legend tells that the Palace was a wonder to touch the heart of any who saw it.  Its towers were trees                           strengthened by rock, with jutting spires and high, open windows. The walls were volcanic stone raised up, then bound tightly by draping vines and giant roots*.  It was said that the main palace was constructed by bending and twisting the forms of over a hundred ancient trees that grew along the shores of the Well itself.”

“That sounded _really_ rehearsed.”  Tanyth offered with a grin.

“Oh, it was.”  Kannan answered with a grin of his own.  “The Well, according to drawings of it, was a lake.  A considerably sized lake.  The palace of Zin-Azshari was once named _Elune’dris_ , after the moon goddess, but was renamed for Queen Azshara.”  He shrugged and accepted another piece of dried meat.  “The Highborne lived in the Eternal Palace with the Queen.  They were….ah, sure of themselves.  And while Queen Azshara was universally, fanatically adored the Highborne were outright hated by the common kal’dorei.”

“Sounds….fishy.”  Tanyth interjected, offering Kannan some melon juice.

“A lot of High Elves in Dalaran think so, too, but even now the ingrained Highborne adoration of the Queen persists.”  Kannan told her wryly, seeming amused.  “Anyways, after the Well was destroyed and blew the original continent apart the former Highborne rebels- who were instrumental in the resistance efforts, it should be said- were exiled by the Night Elves for refusing to abandon the arcane.  Darth’remar Sunstrider took his people across the sea to Lordaeron- what the Eastern Kingdoms were originally called- which was no small task as they had no idea how to make a proper boat, let alone sail across the sea with the Maelstrom raging and the world still shuddering from the aftereffects of the Sundering.”

“And they teach people this history?”  Tanyth wondered aloud, a half-eaten strip of leathery dried meat hanging from her lips. 

“Not to the general public, no.”  Kannan replied easily, helping himself to some dried prickly pear cactus fruits.  “But between my private education and access to my father’s library, I pieced it all together.  Father is quite big on having many vantage points to study history from.”  Kannan shrugged and shifted a little closer to Tanyth as he continued.  “At any rate, they landed near modern-day Tirisfal and eventually make their way to the far north of the Eastern Kingdoms, using magic to keep their golden forests blooming year-round.  The capital is Silvermoon City, led by Darth’remar’s great-grandson High King Anasterion Sunstrider.  My father is actually closer related to the Highborne than the High King.  He’s one of the oldest High Elves alive, which is saying something.”

“Huh.”  Tanyth mused as they lapsed into silence, looking up at the jeweled night sky and the bright light of Elune’s moon as she let that information brush up against her previous knowledge of Warcraft.

It seemed legit.

Thinking of the Highborne did make her think about the upcoming Third War and how many in High Elves would die from the Sunwell’s destruction.

All elves had a dependency on _something_.  Elves had come about from Trolls who had been changed by centuries of living along the shores of the Well of Eternity. 

Not that either race liked to admit that.  It was very much a hotly denied fact.

Nevertheless, all elves were dependent on _something_ to stabilize them or they became raving lunatics, potentially beyond redemption.  Druids drew power from the Wilds and the Emerald Dream.  Priestesses of Elune drew power from the Moonwells.  The High Elves created the Sunwell to sustain them.  The Nightborne turned to the Nightwell.

The Moonwells and the Sunwell had similar backstories in that they were created by phials taken from the Well of Eternity before it became corrupted and exploded. 

In the first case, Moonwells, Illidan Stormrage ‘contaminated’ a pool of water in the kaldorei’s sacred ancestral home of Mount Hyjal with several phials from the Well of Eternity to help sate his arcane addiction after the original Well went nuclear.  She was pretty sure it wasn’t just any pool of water and on top of a fairly tall mountain or something.  At any rate, this event pissed off his Night Elf druid twin, who ordered Illidan to be imprisoned for his crime. 

In the interest of fairness, the world _had_ just been blown apart by a massive font of arcane power because Queen Azshara had decided to invite the Burning Legion to Azeroth.  Tanyth wasn’t sure if it had been the power of the Legion itself or a personal infatuation with Sargeras himself that had so intensely enticed to the delusional monarch.

A tree was planted- with an acorn gifted to the Night Elves by the Red Dragon Aspect, the Lifebinder Alexstrasza- over the ‘new’ Well to hide the ‘new’ Well’s existence and the Night Elves pledged to watch over the waters so that another cataclysm could be avoided. 

The four remaining Dragon Aspects, impressed by the Night Elves tenacity and selflessness blessed this endeavor, granting the Night Elves their famous immortality.  The great World Tree Nordrassil was a fixture that stood for over ten thousand years in the lore.  Moonwells were made from water from the second Well, the blessing of the nearby wildlife, and Elune’s light and were considered sacred shrines to Elune.  The more the kaldorei grew in number, the more Moonwells appeared, and the areas around Moonwells were considered places of renewal and healing.

The Sunwell, on the other hand, was made a great deal of time later.  It took many years for the loss of the Well to truly cripple the Highborne exiles and it actually took them centuries to get from Tirisfal to what was now Quel’Thalas.  The Sunwell was made from a single phial of the Well of Eternity’s waters , poured into a lake that had an usually high amount of leyline intersections beneath it.  The Sunwell- named for Darth’Remar Sunstrider- suffused power into all of the High Elves, no matter where on Azeroth they happened to be. 

Over time the quel’dorei abandoned their ancestral worship of Elune, the moon goddess, and began to worship the sun.  While there was no actual deity connected to the sun in the lore, Tanyth had always suspected that the sun wasn’t just a ball of heated gasses.  At least Azeroth’s sun!

During the Third War the Sunwell was breeched- though not without the High Elves putting up a helluva fight- by the Scourge and contaminated, causing Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider to destroy the font of power to keep it from corrupting the few High Elves that remained.  It was the deaths of most of the population- like, ninety percent or something- that led the Prince to rename his people ‘Blood Elves’.  Or ‘children of the blood’.

The Nightwell was much the same as the Sunwell, except instead of waters from the Well of Eternity, there was a Titan-forged artifact- the Eye of Aman’Thul- and an intersection of leylines.  The Nightwell was a little different from the other two ‘new’ Wells, and the consequences for being cut off from it manifested in a much more acute manner.  The Nightwell was located in the city of Suramar- though most of the once-grand kaldorei city was lost to the Sundering, a portion of it survived under a massive arcane shield. 

The Nightwell differed from the Moonwells and the Sunwell in that its essence was infused into wine. Without regularly consuming the Nightwell-infused wine the Nightborne would become Nightfallen- starving addicts experiencing intense physical withdrawals as well as extreme mental anguish that could be somewhat doctored with them eating crystalline mana- but Nightfallen generally always eventually devolved into Withered.  Withered being mindless, zombie Nightborne who were relentlessly ravenous for both flesh and magic.  It was this process that made banishment from Suramar so appalling, more feared than even an execution sentence.

So, no matter what, elves needed something to help them keep themselves together, which tied into her thoughts about the Third War.  Tanyth could do next to nothing in regards to the Third War.  She was pretty sure it would begin sometime soon, but she honestly had always gotten confused on just when, precisely, it occurred in the timeline. 

The war would be relatively short, but excessively brutal, she did know that much.

But- what if she could find something to help the few remaining High Elves survive?  While the Scourge slaughtered a great deal of them on their way to the Sunwell a not-inconsiderable amount of people died from….well, arcane hunger.  Lack of arcane sustenance, as it were.

True the High Elves were sort of assholes in the Second War, what with not really helping the humans all that much.  Or gracefully.  But Tanyth had always felt that that was more of a product of Arthur-Weasley-rubber-duck-muggle fascination syndrome than true malice.  And to be fair, while Quel’Thalas didn’t commit serious resources to the war effort in terms of troops until Alleria Windrunner dropped a freshly killed Troll’s head at the High King’s feet, there was still all the High Elves in Dalaran that lent aid to consider. 

As well as Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner’s ‘scouting parties’ that always mysteriously had food to share and priestesses to tend the sick and wounded in the camps.  Nothing to share with the camp’s ‘hosts’, though.

Then there was the fact that, honestly speaking, there was a bunch of anti-High Elf sentiment among the humans.  Despite all their help over the course of the Second War, the humans continually grumbled about Quel’Thalas’ contributions never being enough, to the point that the elven kingdom officially told the Alliance of Lordaeron to politely go fuck itself.  The problem, as it were, was that the High Elves really didn’t like human nobility’s treatment of them and tended to help the common folk out of spite, which did not endear them to those who wrote history.

Yeah.  Tanyth had a soft spot for the crazy arcane addicts.

Kannan jostled her as her when he switched up their position a bit- ending up with his arm around her, so they could share more body heat- and he gave her a look.  “Soo~?”  He inquired teasingly, though there was still some wariness behind his bright blue eyes.

Tanyth snorted and stole some dried fruit from the almost-empty leather sack.  “You ever heard of the Broken Isles?”

“Uhm.”  Kannan blinked owlishly at her and she could almost imagine a tumbleweed tumbling across the campsite before his eyes widened and he stuffed a whole handful of dried fruit in his mouth to buy time.

“Ah, so you have.”  Tanyth answered her own question lightly, pouting at the empty pouch before storing it away and cuddling closer to Kannan’s body heat.  “There’s a war coming.”  She quietly informed the night air, looking at the flicking fire instead of her companion.  “A devastating one that…..well, the High Elves could use some of the crystalized mana from the old lands.  I think they come from leyline that were exposed or brought too close to the surface during the Sundering.”

Kannan’s stare was so heavy it might as well been an actual, physical weight against her head.  “Uh…huh.”  He articulated slowly, readjusting a bit and staring out at the fire.  “And- entirely theoretically- if I knew a crazy mage that had always wanted to explore the old lands but couldn’t find a single person willing to go with them because the old lands are within the boundaries of the Maelstrom which is magically unstable you would say……”

Tanyth craned her neck up to lock eyes with Kannan, taking note of his somewhat resigned expression.  “Is this mage in Dalaran?”

“Yep.”  Kannan popped the ‘p’ rather pointedly.

“And is this mage related to you?”  She hazarded further.

“Closely.”

“ _Shit_.”

“Yeah, that was sort of my thought on the subject.”  Kannan drawled, dry as the sands around them.  “But he’s not that bad, just really old.  And not interested in anything but his research.”  He glanced down and gave Tanyth a sympathetic grin.  “He’d be able to portal us in, though.  Only other way in is goblins.  On a boat.  Trying to breach the outer edges of the _Maelstrom_.”

Tanyth shivered, and not just because the night was getting surprisingly nippy.

“He’d also have the resources to get this….crystalized mana of yours to the people who might theoretically need it.”  Kannan drummed his elegant, pianist fingers against a newly upraised knee for a moment before he- oh so casually- added.  “So, you’re not actually a new soul?”

Tanyth jerked away, as if burnt, and turned wide, scared gray eyes towards her partner.  “Wha-at?”

“You don’t have to tell me.”  Kannan assured her firmly, lifting his hands in surrender and warily watching her movements.  “You mentioned it in your drunken ramblings that first night- I dismissed it, but given what I’ve seen of you and this new query, eh.  Thought I’d ask.  With warlocks, immortals, and crazy mages it’s not the craziest idea I’ve ever heard.” 

Kannan seemed honestly regretful for bringing the subject up, and while Tanyth wasn’t anywhere near to forgetting the fact that he had lied to her with the intent to leave her stranded and goldless, she supposed she owed him a little bit of trust and explanations, if he was willing to ask his father to help indulge her whims.

Gotta show trust to be trusted, and all that.

“I think I’m not.”  She amended, scooting back towards Kannan because holy fuck it was cold.  “But there’s a story in the back of my mind that resembles Azeroth.  Not entirely, and maybe not with all that much accuracy, truth be told, but it’s there.”  She shrugged self-consciously.  “I just have a soft spot for arrogant berks with daddy issues, I guess.”

Kannan made a choked sound- and Tanyth registered her own words- and then he burst out laughing.  Doubled over, making dying whale noises laughter. 

“That’s….surprisingly apt.”  He managed to choke out through his giggles- yes, _giggles_.

Tanyth huffed in offense, ignoring the crimson staining her cheeks, crossing her arms, and pouting at the darkness to her left.  “Not that funny.”  She sulked.  “ _Asshole_.”

Kannan fell over, onto his side, wheezing.

Tanyth kicked him in the shin and buried herself in her bedroll.

**\--XXX---**

By the time the sky began to lighten, staining the dark canvas of the night with pinks, oranges, and vibrant reds, the duo had already torn down their campsite and were discussing their next move.

Namely, if they should trust Kannan’s sub-par portal skills or head back to Ratchet.

“On the one hand.”  Tanyth mused as she went through her morning stretches, Kannan mirroring her a short ways away, opposite her.  She reached up towards the sky as far as she could and held for thirty seconds before she planted her palms in the dirt.  “Going back to Ratchet might get me caught-“  She twisted and grabbed her right ankle.  “-but faulty portals are likely even more hazardous to our health.”  She switched ankles and began to count down.

“True.”  Kannan grunted as they repeated the motions.  “But I am _very_ familiar with Dalaran.  Familiarity is half the battle with portals, really.”

“Well, you would know.”  Tanyth assented, bending backwards until she was a fleshy letter n.  After her count she raised herself up into a handstand.  “And, really, I’d rather avoid Ratchet.  Dalaran, from what I know about it, is pretty removed from the other kingdoms, so….”

“Y-Yeah.”  Kannan managed as they returned to an upright position and began the shoulder circuit.  “And my old man will be so excited that someone is willing to travel with him to the old lands that he won’t care.”

“Hm.”  Tanyth hummed as she rolled her neck and then pressed her chin to her collarbone for a count of twenty five, then side to side.  “Good enough for me.  Why did you sell yourself to the goblins instead of just portal out of Dalaran, anyways?  Portals are pretty common there, right?”

“Connections.”  Kannan answered easily.  “Nobody hires anybody without recommendations.  Least of all for mage jobs.  I mean, I had my school certificate, but that doesn’t mean much to anyone outside of Dalaran.  And I had no money at all.  The portals cost silvers to use and I was flat broke.”

Tanyth dropped down onto her backside and leaned as far forward as she could.  “I don’t think I like your mom very much.”

“Eh, me either.”  Kannan admitted candidly as they started in on their last set of stretches.  “But most people have a favorable idea of human mothers, so it’s just easy to make my dad the ‘bad guy’.”  Kannan shrugged as he rolled back to his feet.  “He doesn’t even mind, really.  Of course, he also can set a man on fire without needing any hand movements or verbal incantations, so most people leave him alone on principle.”

“Fair enough.”  Tanyth laughed as she strapped on her gear, pausing when she noticed Kannan fiddling with a strand of tough grass and looking uncomfortable le.  “Out with it.”  She demanded, hands propped against her hips.

Was it just her or were they getting bigger?  Her armor had fit perfectly a week ago!

“Well, it’s just-“  Kannan blew out an aggravated breath, squared his shoulders, and looked her straight in the….nose.  “High Elves tend to be more open minded about their relationships, and only marry for love or permanent partnership……uhh, bonded companions?”  He made a noise of frustration.  “I mean, there are some of the lower born who marry for power, but not nearly as often as the humans like to think.”

“Ok.”  Tanyth allowed, blinking slowly and managing to lock gazes with Kannan.  “And?”  She prompted.

“I tend to take after my High Elven kin.”  He announced flatly.  “I like both men and women as romantic partners and my father will likely mention that.”

Tanyth reached up to rub the neck of her neck with one hand- fuck, it was getting warm out- and quirked an eyebrow at Kannan.  “Thanks for the heads up, can we _go_ now?”

Kannan mimed strangling her, but was grinning.  “You make a _terrible_ human.”  He informed her in a sternly exasperated tone.  “One of the reasons for all the anti-High Elf sentiment- especially aimed at us lowly halfbloods- is because of our ‘hedonistic’ ways.”  He sniffed facetiously and looked down his nose at her.  “We corrupt perfectly _normal_ sons and make daughters agree to things that shame their mothers, you know.”

“I think I’ll take that title.  And that was _really_ disturbing.”  Tanyth replied, rolling her eyes expressively before she made a ‘get to it’ gesture towards her companion.  “So, get to work, _minion_.  It’s only been an hour since sunrise and I’m _already_ miserable from the heat.”

Kannan stepped forward long enough to tweak her nose before he hopped out of range and began gathering bluish-purple arcane power.  “I still can’t get over the fact that you left civilization to learn how to rough it just to help a conman.”

“Well, what can I say?”  Tanyth snarked, gifting him a droll glower and crossing her arms as she watched him like a hawk.  “I’m just a _nice_ _person_.”

“Hmm.  Yeah.  Pull the other one it’s got bells on it.”  Kannan deadpanned, smiling brightly as a glowing blue tear opened in front of his over-under open palms.  After a few seconds of nothing but blue-purple arcane swirliness, a purple and ivory room appeared in the center of the spell.  “Hey, it worked!  In you go!  It’ll close after me!  Don’t forget to pull up your hood!”

“You’re _such_ an _asshole_.”  Tanyth muttered, stepping through the swirling arcane spell with far more bravado than she felt.

It was like walking into a spider web, honestly.  A clingy spider web.

Tanyth shuddered, stepping a step further and feeling Kannan step out behind her.  His arm went around her waist and he led them over to a bored looking blonde woman clad in mage robes with a purple tabard with a stylized white eye on a purple background.  She had a strange box-hat on and was fiddling with a quill. 

“Name and reason for visit?”  She asked boredly, looking over them disinterestedly.

“Kannan of Dalaran and guest, here to visit Kelo’reem of Violet Way.”  Kannan answered snippily, earning him a raised eyebrow from Tanyth, though she said nothing.

The woman looked at Kannan’s unique ears and her expression flattened into something entirely false.  “You’ll need to sign in.”  She informed them with a blinding, bullshit smile.  “Both of you.  Security precaution, you know.”

“I will sign for us both.  I am a _citizen_.”  Kannan corrected, unwrapping his arm from around Tanyth’s waist and signing his name in the glowing purple book with the glowing purple quill….in glowing purple ink.

_‘I feel like I’m in a Lisa Frank commercial.  All I need are some butterfly clips.’_   Tanyth thought amusingly as Kannan smiled thinly at the now-sneering greeter and he led her out into Dalaran.

The room they had arrived in was spacious but contained; it wasn’t until they stepped past some ivory pillars and out of the arched doorway, passing by three sets of bored Peacekeepers, that Tanyth got her first look of Dalaran proper.

“It’s so…..purple.”  She commented dryly as she looked over the glittering purple spires, offset by shining ivory accents.  Even the flagstones were purple!

It was pretty in a perfectly-manicured sort of way, with what looked like old gas lamps- only powered by bright arcane smoke- and people bustling around everywhere.  The air smelled like…..well, sticky sweetness.  Like the remains of an ice cream or popsicle treat on your hands on a hot day.  Or a cotton candy machine at the end of a long day at the fair.

Kinda overpowering, really.

Dalaran’s architecture reminded her of that cartoon _Aladdin_ , with most of the tallest spires being rounded at the top, almost like a baker’s flourish on a cupcake. 

What was it about Dalaran that made her hungry?

Kannan stifled a laugh.  “This coming from the woman with _purple_ hair.”

“I’ll have you know that it was more black than purple before I spent two months learning how to live off the lands in the fuc- _delightful_ Barrens.”  Tanyth growled at him, poking him in the side discreetly as Kannan expertly guided them through the busy, opulent, _pugnaciously purple_ streets.  “And you’re looking kind of extra bright there, red.”

“Shut up.”  Kannan told her cheerfully, weaving them around a wide park and heading towards a district of homes with large yards and ridiculous displays of arcane yard ornaments.  “There’s a Barbershop here.  We’ll get touch ups.”

Tanyth gave him the look she felt that deserved.

She was grateful for their banter, though.  It was making her really nervous to be back in the Eastern Kingdoms, and even if Jarvis-Cupcake-Kannan was an asshole, he was also sort-of her friend and she felt better knowing he was here.

Yes, she was aware that she was ridiculous, but beggars can’t be choosers!

Lost in her thoughts, Tanyth nearly missed it when they swung into a particular gated area between two fat pillars and Kannan tapped out a sequence on a projected purple gate with his fist.

The home- manor seemed more appropriate- was shaped like a cathedral almost.  Only, instead of having a steeple, per se, there was an upper spire that floated above a beautiful home made of a seamless fusion of metal, trees, and glass-like gemstones.  The entire roof seemed to glitter in the bright sunshine, illuminating the floating spire with speckles of bright color.  The spire held windows, floor to ceiling, and it seemed as if the thing rotated, always keeping the sun at an optimal angle.

Then there was the yard.

“Are those….water elementals?  Instead of statues?”  Tanyth asked somewhat incredulously as she looked over the manicured lawn.

“Yeah.  He used to have fire elementals but the homeowners association had a fit.”  Kannan answered boredly, tapping out an impatient rhythm on her waist.  “Made my old man so mad he ripped up the whole garden and planted a whole row of hedge-steelbloom because Magister Faleena- the neighbor on that side- is allergic.”

Tanyth could see how such a man had fathered Kannan.

The gate flickered just as a…cloud of sparkly arcane energy bound with silver cups rolled up next to it.  It literally looked like a freestanding cloud of sparkly pink smoke that stood almost as tall as Tanyth, with shiny silver cuffs.

“The master will see you now.”  It said in Common, after Kannan said something in what she assumed was Thalassian.

Once they were through the gate Kannan dropped the arm around her waist and she grinned at him.  “Told you we wouldn’t be questioned if we played at being a couple.”

Tanyth growled and swatted at him as they ascended the marble steps to the breathtaking silver-wrought doors.  “I am _thirteen_.  They were _stupid_.”

Honestly!  She didn’t even have much in the way of womanly assets yet!

“Really?  I thought you were older.”  Kannan commented as they entered and Tanyth was immediately appreciative of the warm woods and general lack of purple.  “But…thirteen, really?”

“Yeah.”  Tanyth replied as they climbed a winding staircase, and then stepped onto a free floating disc that took them up, around a free floating staircase that seemed physically impossible to climb, then then straight up to a massive library.

Tanyth might have screeched like a cat.  Maybe.  Possibly.

The floor of the library was beveled glass, with stylized images of the sun and other….elvey things.  The bright splashing of the lights reflecting from the gemstone-glass ceiling of the building below the spire seemed to correspond with the artistry of the floor.  It looked like a sunset beneath her feet.  Even having lived in the age of the internet, the scene was….pure magic, really.  It also smelled of parchment, ink, and the crisp, sweet-smelling scent she was coming to associate with the arcane.

Since she came to Dalaran ten minutes ago or whatever.  The smell was _everywhere_!

“Ah, my long-lost son has come to visit his father.  And he’s brought a most peculiar young lady with him as well!”  The speaker was a man- well, elf- with Kannan’s razor’s edge straight white hair and blue eyes. 

“Father.”  Kannan greeted the tall elf warily as Kelo’reem’s bright blue eyes narrowed dangerously as they studied the arcane binding on Kannan’s face.

“I see you have sufficiently sown your wild peacebloom, son.”  The tall- he was a head taller than Kannan who was already a head and a half taller than Tanyth- elf stated, mild as milk.  Then the man turned, the silver and gold earrings in his long, whippy ears jingling lightly as he spun to smile at Tanyth.  “And you, dear!  You have an amazing potential for the arcane!  Have you come to study with me?”

Tanyth could understand how this man charmed his way into many a woman’s beds.  “Sort of, sir.  We-“

“Tanyth wants to visit the old lands, father.”  Kannan broke in, amused.  He was leaning on the guardrail of the floating disc like the smug asshole he was.  “Thinks that there’s crystalized mana from exposed leylines there.  With their proximity to the Well, might make for an interesting study.”

“Ah!”  The man exclaimed excitedly, turning bright eyes back to Tanyth who willed herself not to blush, dammit!  “I’ve never found another daring enough to brave the Maelstrom!”

The man waved them further in and twin elegant chairs with gloriously fluffy red cushions popped into existence when they reached his truly massive desk.  The sun streamed in from the ceiling-to-floor windows and the breeze lightly ruffled the wispy cream curtains.

It was….pleasant.  Okay, it was _awesome_!

_‘I want one!’_   Tanyth pouted ridiculously inside the sanctity of her own mind.

“I braved the Maelstrom once in my youth, but the Maelstrom is more than just a permanent, churning vortex of death.”  Kelo’reem muttered as he poked through stacks of scrolls, tomes, and scattered parchments.  “It is also a massive storm of unstable arcane energy, in addition to being a natural disaster- a force of nature in its own right.  Very tricky to pierce from the inside and damn near impossible to pierce from the outside. “  The man huffed before he threw out a net of arcane energy and made a noise of triumph when a battered looking tome floated over to him. 

Tanyth had always wondered about that. 

The Maelstrom was visible from _outer fuckin’ space_ \- well, the Great Dark beyond- and had always seemed more like a hurricane to her.  Hurricanes- sufficiently powerful ones- had ‘layers’ and tended to rotate.  It would make sense, then, for the Maelstrom to do the same.  To have areas within its confines that were nearly unaffected while other areas had screaming winds and roaring waters so violent that they were impossible to traverse, via normal means. 

To some degree, at least.  Portals were sort of bullshit.

The constantly churning vortex of doom was anchored to the very core of Azeroth- where the Well had imbedded itself after going nuclear.  Well, technically, the Well of Eternity had sort of collapsed into itself- imploded.  The results spoke for themselves, really- it literally sundered a handcrafted, solid Pangea-like continent into at least four major pieces, with plenty of shattered little islands dotting the new watermass as well.  _Shattered_.  The seas- which, should be noted, were incredibly far away- rushed in to fill in the newly created gaps. 

Hence the ‘Great Sea’.

It would have been like if some place in Russia had exploded and all that was left afterwards was Japan and the United Kingdom on either side.  Or if Saskatchewan or the Dakotas went up in a blaze of glory with Mexico and Greenland emerging as the only north-south surviving landmasses.   The Sundering had been a _massive_ _earth-shattering_ event.

So, the Maelstrom.   It had a fixed point of sorts.  But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t in a constant state of flux.  The Maelstrom had been going strong for over _ten thousand years_ , so there had to be some residual energies from the Well or something that kept it whipped into high frenzy mode.  Just with the added bonus of torrents of seawater, high winds, and arcane instability.

There was an actual ‘eye’ of the Maelstrom itself.  Or at least a weak point, as Deathwing had used the Maelstrom as his entry point to return to Azeroth.  Sure he shattered the World Pillar that kept the realm of Deepholm- an elemental plane- stable and nearly caused Azeroth to collapse into the aforementioned realm in a truly spectacular manner, but, _semantics_.

Her point was: one did not lightly fuck with the Maelstrom.

“I assisted Guardian Magna Aegwynn in locating the ancient Temple of Elune that is now known as the Tomb of Sargeras.”  Kelo’reem sighed and flipped through the thick pages of the book efficiently.  “The Broken Isles are even further inside the Maelstrom than the Tomb and I have been quite unable to find any person- for love or money- to travel with me to explore them.”  The man paused before adding.  “And that weren’t goblins.  Not the most…refined laborers, despite their dedication to coin.”

“Well, here we are.”  Kannan announced, entirely deadpan; gesturing him Tanyth and himself needlessly.

“Mhm.  So you are.”  His father replied, glancing up over the top of the tome to pin his wayward son with a piercing look.  “You could have come to me a dozen years ago, you know.”

Kannan shifted uneasily and Tanyth suddenly developed an intense fascination in the chaotic, orderly library’s layout.  It had to hold at least a thousand proper tomes, with nearly as many neat sections for large, runebound scrolls as well.

_‘I don’t remember this district from the lore.’_   Tanyth thought rather sadly as she politely tuned out the father-son conversation going on in the background, despite the fact it had fallen into Thalassian.  _‘I hope it survives the war.’_   Then she thought for a moment and amended.  _‘I’m glad we didn’t teleport into the middle of the war!’_

“Tanyth.”

Kannan saying her name broke her out of her ruminations, causing her to turn and smile at him.  “We all set, then?”

Kelo’reem snorted delicately, crossing his arms over his intricately embroidered robes.  “Hardly, child.  I’ve spent my considerably long life building this collection, I’m not about to leave it behind for some upstart to raid!”

“Um….”  Tanyth tailed off as she blinked owlishly, turning to Kannan for help.

She felt slightly better when he looked as lost as she did.

“Really!  Children these days!”  Kelo’reem muttered to himself, taking a seat in the throne-like chair behind his desk.  “I have loose ends to tie up and supplies to gather.  If I’m going to go through all the effort of piercing the Maelstrom, I’m not going to live like an _animal_ when I get there!”  He sniffed and accepted a cup of tea as it popped into existence near his left hand, motioning for them to avail themselves of the tray of refreshments that blinked into existence between their chairs.

Tanyth had a weird feeling about this.

“That’s why I’ll be teleporting my estate there.”  The man informed them with admirable aplomb.  “Once you two miscreants have secured the area and set up the proper runestones, of course.”

Tanyth choked on her tea, hastily mopping her mess up with some napkins and staring at the man as if he had lost his mind.

“Oh, don’t give me such a wounded expression.”  Kelo’reem dismissed with a huff, sipping daintily at his tea.  After setting the top of it on fire and blowing said fire out with a winter-frosty breath.  “I’m hardly going to send you two off in those…..clothes.”

“Hey, I made these!”  Tanyth countered, indignant.  “They were better than nothing!”

“I’m sure.”  Kannan’s asshole father assured her patently.  “However, I am quite skilled at several things.  Enchanting being one of them, so you won’t need those.  Hm.”  The man’s eyes turned far away for a moment as he absently sipped at his tea.  “I should bring a smith.  And an herbalist.” 

Kelo’reem suddenly set down his cup in a very final manner and made shooing motions.  “Go, both of you.  Kannan can show you to the guest rooms, I have planning to do!  Off with you!”

**\--XXX---**

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


	6. Chapter 6

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Ok, so she had a _suite_ of rooms.  A presidential-suite of rooms, only instead of high end tech there was magic.  Tanyth did wonder if there was any people staff or if the house ran on magic alone.

Outside her large, bay windows and the exquisitely etched glass doors that led to the balcony she could see massive golden trees.  She remembered that the Eversong Woods- where Silvermoon City was located- had golden trees.  Trapped in eternal springtime or something like that.  The High Elves had used their magic to make the kingdom lush and temperate as well as well-protected.  While the High Elves never went full Night Elves in their appreciation for nature, they did respect it greatly and had some sort of a predisposition for using the trees and grasses to their advantage.

The sight of the thick, tall golden trees was surprisingly soothing.  Especially after walking through Dalaran’s beautiful- but rather oppressively purple- streets.  The walls of her suite were a rich navy blue, with silver, gold, and cream accents.

The bedroom past the entry area-sitting room held a massive four-poster bed and was- quite thankfully- done in silvers and blue.  And she had her very own massive bath!

Further inspection of her new quarters revealed a well-appointed walk-in closet.  That was bigger than it seemed, which pleased her because that meant space extension-distortion bullshit was a thing on Azeroth and there was the possibility of a Harry Potter Tent. 

Tanyth would adore the chance to make a space for herself that no one could take away.  Not Stormwind or bounty hunters or Black dragons or _anyone_.  A home that she could carry with her wherever her crazy life led her was incredibly appealing to a girl who hadn’t had an actual _home_ since she’d found herself on Azeroth.  There had been the ramshackle huts in the camps, the Cathedral, and then Prestor Hall, but they had just been places to sleep not _home_.

_‘Not all who wander are lost’_ had long been one of her favorite mantras, but that didn’t mean that Tanyth was opposed to having a secure space to call her own.  There was something deeply comforting in the thought of knicknaks and favorite blankets and having _her own bed_.

The idea that she might actually have a home to call her own hit Tanyth harder than she had expected it to.  Tanyth lowered herself into one of the blue, squishy chairs in the sitting room area just outside the bedroom, watching the light as it filtered through the golden trees outside and glanced off the lavishly decorated walls. 

But, a tent home. 

The prospect was incredibly tantalizing.  She had only halfheartedly entertained the idea before now because the mages in Stormwind had sworn up, down, and sideways that the arcane was too volatile to remain stable when stretched too far.  Hence why her enchanted backpack could only hold so much before it filled up, just as any normal bag would.  However it would make sense that a kingdom that was essentially made up entirely of mages would be more advanced.  As opposed to Stormwind whose people still- well magic _items_ were appreciated, while practicing or studying magic was seen as a ‘soft option’. 

She allowed her thoughts to drift, her blinks coming slower and slower as she watched the daylight filter through goldenwood trees.

_‘I should take a bath.  Maybe it will have bubble taps like the one in Stormwind’s keep?’_   She mused as she lifted a hand and idly rotated it, watching the patterns as they danced across her tanned skin.  _‘I can start scheming up a tent configuration to keep me awake.  I’ll want a living room- with a couch!- and my own bedroom.’_   She grinned at nothing, her spirits buoyed by the sheer possibilities.  ‘ _And a shower!  And-‘_   She let her mind run wild as she tried to scrape together the fortitude to lever herself out of her overstuffed chair to the bath.

Tanyth was startled out of her daydream about trying out the suite’s swimming pool sized bath- and musing how she would fit such a thing into her hypothetical tent home- when there was a knock at the door.

Confused, she grabbed her bone sword- just in case!- and crept over the plush rugs and the marble floor to the ornate dark blue door.  “Who is it?”  She called out clearly.

“Greatfather Winter.”  Came Kannan’s tongue-in-cheek response.

Tanyth tossed her sword onto a nearby chair and wrenched the door open.  “What?  Can’t go five minutes without my glorious presence?”

Something about Kannan made her mouthier than usual.  Probably from being forced to gaze upon his stupid face.

_Asshole_.

“Yes.”  He drawled deprecatingly, inviting himself in to sprawl out in one of her overly cushioned chairs near the balcony doors.  “I was feeling insecure without your constant affirmations of my greatness.”

Tanyth pretended the snark didn’t make her laugh, shut the door, and plodded across the room to toss herself into the chair opposite Kannan.  “Yes, well.  I ran out of adjectives for ‘assholeist asshole to ever asshole’.”

There was a visual standoff for almost a minute, neither one giving an inch in the eye-contact war, before they both burst out laughing.

“This is so much better than pretending to be a sullen slave.”  Kannan laughed, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes as he settled more comfortably in his chair.  He smiled softly at Tanyth.  “Thanks for not tossing me out.  Even though that’s what I deserved.”

“Yes, well.”  Tanyth demurred, pretending red wasn’t creeping into her face as she situated herself.  “You do grow on a person.  Like a fungus.”

Kannan rolled his bright eyes and the moment passed.

“So, what do you want?  There’s a glorious bath calling my name.”  Tanyth prodded her companion somewhat impatiently.

“I figured I should warn you about my father’s…oddities.”  Kannan replied with a wry grin.  “I know some people….well, they take it the wrong way.”  He sighed and ran his hand through his bright red hair, pulling out his hair tie and letting it fall down around his shoulders.  “I know I did.”  He grinned wryly at Tanyth as he explained.  “My old man is so old that he forgets that money is a touchy subject for some people.  He buys things that he thinks are best suited and pays for them without a thought.  It’s not him trying to make you feel indebted to him or anything…..it’s just his way.”  Kannan’s eyes drifted towards the balcony doors and he sighed gustily.  “I always got really touchy about it as a kid, and it wasn’t until way later that I realized what he’d been trying to tell me when he said ‘gold is cheap’.”

Tanyth mulled that over for a long moment before she nodded slowly.  “So don’t mistake honest open-handedness for subterfuge.”

“Basically.”  Kannan replied, turning to grin half-heartedly at her.  “He can be sort of an ass about how he goes about it, sometimes, too.  So that doesn’t help.  But he knows his shit and he’s usually right about gear and enchantments and the like.”

“I’ll do my best to keep that in mind.  Fortunately I’ve built up some immunity to general jerkness.”  Tanyth acquiesced graciously.  Kannan pulled a face at her and she grinned winningly at him.  “But is there- I mean, I get that gold isn’t something he values incredibly highly, but is there something I can do to not feel like a total freeloader.”

Kannan took that into consideration for a bit, long enough for Tanyth to grow tired of being too short for her chair and to scrunch herself up into a cross-legged position, watching the light dance off the golden trees in the yard below.  Her suite was at the ‘back’ of the house, so she got a nice view of what looked like a slice of the Eversong Woods.

“He always liked to tell me stories.”  Kannan offered after a long while spent in companionable silence.  “He’s a great storyteller, too, but most people either only indulge him to get something from him or they get all patronizing about it.  I know his wife- she died back in the Troll Wars, she was the High King favored consort’s favorite Handmaiden- was a priestess.  He likes to talk about her…..but no one really likes to listen.”  Kannan’s expression turned bitter; self-loathing.  “I know I didn’t.  I always thought it was a betrayal to my mother……it was only after I got some sense knocked into me that I realized my old man wasn’t actually the villain I….well, that I wanted him to be.”

“Fair enough.”  Tanyth accepted easily, well aware of how long she had taken to mature back before.  _Everyone_ was a little bit of a misguided, angsty jerk at some point in their life.

As a matter of fact, a great number of people never outgrew that stage of their life, let alone had the courage to admit it had happened and accept their blunders.

“At any rate!”  Kannan stated brightly, rising from his chair and grinning widely at her- she politely ignored the fact that it was a touch more wistful than usual- and cheerfully announced.  “Enjoy your bath but don’t fall asleep in there.  This is my half-sister’s old room so you’re free to wear any of the old clothes- don’t give me that look, this is where the old man told me to put you!  He’ll let us sleep most of the day, but an arcane servant will wake you up and we’ll be expected in the private dining balcony for dinner.  I’ll make sure you look presentable, so don’t worry!”

Then Kannan bounced off and Tanyth shelved the conversation’s revelations in favor of her bath.  While there were n bubble ‘taps’ there were bottles of multicolored bubbles that smelled positively divine that she wanted to explore……

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth stared at her reflection, unsure if she liked this or not.

Well, she did like her dress, if it could be called that.   It had a high collar and fell to her knees, but had a split that started just above her waist that left the thing open.  Naturally she had some pants on underneath it- sort of like a really long, really nice pair of those shorts that pretended to be a skirt- the red of her pants pairing nicely with her mostly-white split-dress.  She said ‘mostly white’ because there was a ton of delicate embroidery that somehow managed to make her violet hair match her outfit.  And it technically had two splits- one on the front left side, and then along the outside seam of her leg on the right which made the split-dress lay mostly flush against her.

Speaking of, she braided it back from her face and used a gem-studded golden band that had been in the vanity to hold the side-swept plait in place.  The rest of her hair sort of laid in loose waves, too short to braid and too long to try and style.  She lined her eyes with some kohl- she had forgotten how annoying eye makeup was to apply- and finished just as there was another knock on the door.

The first had been an hour ago to wake her up.

“Well, what do you think?”  She asked Kannan nervously from where he was leaning against the door after she called out that it was safe to enter.

The asshole smirked and Tanyth quirked an eyebrow in an expectant manner.

As much as she hated to admit it, Kannan could clean up rather well.  He was in a set bright red robes with gold and cream accents and he actually wore it well.  Some of the brighter red accents matched his hair, which had a few gold fastenings holding it in place, so he looked pretty nice.

Not that she was ever going to tell him that.

_Asshole_.

“Awww!  Little Tanyth looks all grown up!”  Kannan cooed, obviously teasing her.  “Can’t go to dinner until you put some shoes on, though.”

Tanyth tossed him a dirty look and gestured towards the massive walk-in closet opposite her luxurious bathroom.  “Good luck.  Make sure you write.”

Kannan pushed off the doorframe and rolled his eyes at her, ambling over to the closet whole she turned back to check her reflection, worrying for the thousandth time if it was really okay to wear the high-quality, silken outfit.  It slipped over her skin like water and was wonderfully cool.

She might be a little in love.

“Here you go.”  Kannan told her as he walked into her mirror frame and handed her a pair of tastefully embellished crimson and gold flats. 

“Thanks.”  Tanyth muttered as she slipped them on, pleasantly surprised at the support and level of comfort the seemingly flat shoes provided her feet.

That was it.  She was officially in love with these clothes.

“Shall we?”  Kannan asked wryly, offering her his arm while wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously.

She sighed in a very put-upon manner and stuck her nose in the air as she let him tuck her arm closer to his side.  “I suppose.  Lead on, oh great and mighty master of the floorplan.”

Kannan snorted a laugh and fairly dragged her out of her room.

**\--XXX---**

The walk wasn’t as bad as she feared- they went down the sparsely- but tastefully- decorated hallway towards what looked to be a little overlook area, but was actually another floating disc that took them back up to the spire, only around the library and up to a previously unseen section at the very top.

The disc alighted on a platform that led to an open air dining area that overlooked Dalaran.  The Violet Citadel was fairly easy to recognize, even if she had never personally seen it before because it was _huge_.  The late afternoon sun was half-hidden by the horizon and there was just enough light to make the upper tier area seem cozy instead of overly bright or creepy.

“Ah!  Precisely on time!”  Kelo’reem approved as they made their way across the darkly polished floors to the reasonably sized table that was sort of on a raised dais.  “And impeccably dressed!”

Tanyth smiled, strangely charmed by the eccentric old elf.  “Thank you for the lovely suite!  And for allowing me use of these clothes!  They’re exquisite!”  She fairly gushed as Kannan seated her to his father’s left and then walked around to sit across from her.  The table was seemingly only made for six, but then again- magic.

“Nonsense, my dear.”  The man waved her comments off with an elegant, lazy gesture of his hand.  “It pleases me greatly to see that outfit on such a remarkable young woman.”  His bright blue eyes roamed over the outfit once more before he smiled softly, in a manner eerily reminiscent of his son.  When his son wasn’t being an asshole for ten seconds.  “My dearest Sylanna would be happy to see her work appreciated so sincerely.”

“Sylanna?”  Tanyth inquired, wondering if it was the man’s late wife he was speaking of.  “She made the incredible clothes in the suite’s closet?”

“Indeed!”  The man answered, a wide smile spreading across his face just as the surface of the table rippled and the pre-meal cleansing dishes appeared.

Thankfully aware of the etiquette, Tanyth mostly focused on her host.

“My Sylanna was one of the last quel’dorei traditional Spell-Weavers.  They wove enchantments into every fiber of the pieces they made.”  The pre-meal ritual cleaning of the hands complete, the man tapped the table with the index finger of his left hand, making them disappear.

Lovely garden salads appeared on the table along with wineglasses full of dark red….wine, she was guessing.

“The traditional method fell out of favor for more modern enchanting methods using alchemically charged dusts and slivers of hardened arcane shards.”  The man snorted delicately, taking a bite of his leafy green salad and a sip of wine before he continued.  “The modern enchantments are much easier to simplify- and therefore replicate—but they have none of the _class_ of my dear Sylanna’s generation of arcane artists!”

“Hm.”  Tanyth hummed, taking a sip of wine- surprisingly it was rather refreshing instead of immediately making her want to guzzle down an ocean’s worth of fresh water- before she responded properly.  “I guess I could see how standardized enchantments would be attractive, but it’s rather tragic that such an art might become lost.”  Tanyth felt like such an idiot.  Why could she never just speak simple words to convey her points effectively?  “I mean- no offense to modern enchanters, of course!  But I can sort of feel how….well, how much work went into this _fabulous_ dress in how it feels so comfortable, yet is still practical.”  Tanyth looked away from Felo’reem’s eyes and blushed down at the table.  “Sorry!  I get carried away sometimes!”

“Not at all.”  The man said very matter-of-factly as he speared some cucumbers and what looked like a mutant cherry tomato.  “I did say you have amazing potential for the arcane, it’s only fitting that you would notice such things.”

Tanyth just wanted the dinner to end before she managed to put her foot in her mouth.  _‘For fuck’s sake, me!’_

“Now, as to exploring the old lands.”  The man segued into a safer topic seamlessly, making Tanyth look back up and try really hard to not make eye contact with anyone as she quietly ate her salad.  “As I mentioned earlier, breaching the Maelstrom is no easy feat, even for someone of my considerable abilities.  Thus it makes sense for me to relocate my home as well.  I, of course, have done this once before when I relocated from the Isle of Quel’Danas to Dalaran.  Of course-“  The elf chuckled loftily, as if he were sharing an inside joke.  “-that was back when Dalaran was still part of Arathorian Empire.”

Over the next three courses Tanyth learned that the estates on the Isle of Quel’Danas were allotted to only the most distinguished, trusted Houses of the Convocation of Silvermoon.  They were smaller than the estates in the Eversong Woods- which ran from the Greenwood Pass, at Lordaeron’s border to the very top of the continent- but that was mostly due to the Isle being small and a great deal of the area being dominated by the Sunwell Plateau.

When he had relocated the Morningspring Estate from Quel’Danas to its present location he had done so through the use of runestones.  According to Kelo’reem getting the runstones aligned properly under the estate and synching them with the orientation of the leylines was the hardest part of the entire ordeal.  This time around he had further refined the process, and thus their job was fairly simple: find a comparable size of land in Azsuna, charge the runestones to the proper saturation point, and then he would do the rest of the work, using the charged runestones as his focal point.

It sounded rather preposterous to Tanyth, but then again people were able to cut houses in half and haul them across the country _without_ magic back before.  So.  Technically she and Kannan would sort of be laying a foundation of sorts, and it was Kelo’reem who assured them that the old lands would have more than enough raw magic power to power the runestones to the point of critical mass or eighty-eight miles an hour or whatever.

She respectfully ignored the implication that he had moved to Dalaran mostly to get away from Quel’Thalas after the death of his wife.  From what she could gather from subtext and politely-phrased redirects Sylanna’s grave was on the property and that had been his most compelling reason for shifting his estate rather than simply moving.

Curiosity made her wonder what type of relationship the two had, considering the elf had taken- presumably- several other lovers, and at least Kannan’s mother had lived and studied within the estate.  Maybe the grave was elsewhere?  And there was a great deal of difference between a companion-lover and a spouse.  True, the happiest of the latter were also the former, but at the same time it wasn’t uncommon- even among humans- for the bereaved half of a married pair to take on lovers who were dear friends, faithful confidants, and cherished partners. 

Life was complicated and the intricacies of relationships even moreso.  And from what she had gathered from Kannan the other night and then tonight’s dinner it wasn’t as if Kelo’reem was duplicitous about his intentions.

Still, fascinating look into the relationships of a long-lived people or not, it wasn’t any of her business.

Dinner, all in all, had been surprisingly pleasant.  Mostly filled with Kelo’reem’s chatter, but Kannan had been correct when he had said that his father was a wonderful storyteller.  After desert Kelo’reem had escorted them over to some couches and demanded that his son use _“-those blasted harp lessons from The Harpy”._

Tanyth hadn’t known that Kannan could play the lyre-harp thing.  Learn something new everyday!

Long after the sun had set and Dalaran’s streets had come alive with bright arcane lights in the distance Kelo’reem had dismissed them, with the firm instruction that they were to meet him in the ‘Training Hall’ at sunrise. 

Kannan had escorted her back to her suite and Tanyth had been so happy-full that she dragged one of her chairs out onto the balcony, changed into a silken nightdress, and lounged in the shadows of the goldenwood trees like an indulgent noble.

She had written Masa and Redda a letter explaining her and Kannan’s disappearance and she’d send it off tomorrow.  Mailboxes existed, but only in capital cities.  _‘Note to self- ask Kannan about hiring a courier versus using the mail.  I don’t think the mail system is set up over on Kalimdor.’_   She felt a little jilted that she hadn’t been able to say goodbye, but she was also selfish enough to admit that she was a little grateful that she hadn’t been awake to make that particular decision.  She missed her friends but she also was genuinely more terrified of Onyxia than she was of possibly braving the Maelstrom and Azsuna.

Tanyth looked out over the golden forest- that she now knew actually was a chunk of the Eversong Woods- and enjoyed the pleasant night air, curled up in one of the comfortable chairs.  Albeit she was laid over it sideways, but meh.

Eventually though, her practical nature poked through her potent food-and-music blissful haze and she began to turn her thoughts towards logistics.

_Azsuna_. 

In the game the first time they’d seen it was in the burning Legion’s…uhh, fourth?  Fifth?  Invasion of Azeroth.  So by the time the fertile, vibrant lands had been open to explore, they had already been tainted by the green flubber ooze of the Legion.

Which meant that she really didn’t know what to expect, going in now. 

The dragons and the cursed elves would- _should_ \- be there, but without the Tidestone quest and Dalaran chilling in the sky what could she possibly offer them to allow Kelo’reem’s estate to be moved to their broken homeland?  And how was she going to get the crystalized mana to Quel’Thalas anyways?

_‘One thing at a time, idiot!’_   She ordered herself, curling her fingers into the microplush feeling blanket and ordering her thoughts.  Through sheer force of will.

What concerned her the most about their impending trip to Azsuna was that she and Kannan would be going in blind, and- well.

She wasn’t exactly a seasoned champion with an artifact weapon.

True, she wasn’t nearly as unprepared as she had been when she left Stormwind three months ago.  A time span that seemed incredibly short and contradictorily long at the same time.

But.  After roughing it with Masa and Redda she felt more secure.  She knew more about plants and making due with what she had.  Living in Stormwind she had always gotten meat from the butcher’s shop, but she could now clean and dress her own kills- as much as she didn’t really like to kill fluffy animals.  She could tan hides and cure skins and she had survived a couple actual battles, not just sparring matches.

So she wasn’t going in entirely green, but the idea that she might be walking into territory that was past her skill level just wouldn’t let her overactive imagination rest.

Tanyth took note of the moon’s position and stretched languidly, pulling a  sun-patterned quilt over her- in addition to her other blanket- and settling down.  She wasn’t sure if she was tired enough to sleep-sleep, but it was certainly the perfect night for napping in the moonlight.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Kannan grinned at her and she returned the gesture, feeling more excited than nervous for some stupid reason.  They were in the arcane neutral basement of the Morningspring Estate, ready to head off to Azsuna after a week of being fussed over and resting.

Tanyth’s new armor looked….well, it looked like her dress from that first night.  Different colors, somewhat.  The carmine pants were fitted and tucked into supple knee-high boots and the embroidered rosewood dress portion stopped just below her knees.  Both items were edged with golden accents that flowed seamlessly into the elegant embroidery.  Her golden, jeweled headpiece was serving as her helmet while her wrists held wrist-length leather, embroidered bracelets that matched her dress and, honestly, her outfit seemed entirely impractical until someone tried to hit her and realized that she might as well have been wearing solid plate.

True, all the armor, defense, and dodge enchantments on her armor meant that she had very little in the way of bullshit stamina or mana cheats.  However with her age and body size taken into account- and how much more agile she could be considering the relatively negligible weight of her armor- her armor had far more pros than cons.

On her back was a glowing medium length sword and an equally enchanted-item-glowy shield.   Her sword- Solaria- was enchanted to burn things because Kelo’reem was a pyromaniac.   Meanwhile her shield- ‘Elren’dorah’- was enchanted to absorb force, which would help her keep her footing against larger enemies.  Because basically everyone ever was larger than Tanyth.  Except for maybe Gnomes.

Like most quel’dorei swords, Solaria had a golden guard and the metal of the blade was two-toned- silvery white at the edges and dark blue in the middle.  The outside of the blade flared a little at the base, tapered inwards a bit, and then flared out just before the tip; the inside edge swerved inwards until it met the flat edge that trailed around from the tip, which essentially gave her two sharp, stabby points for the price of one. 

She was calling her damn shield ‘Dorah’ as she had no idea why the High Elves were so fond of hyphenated names.  Dorah was a beautiful piece of _art_ , with the relief of a golden phoenix on the front and plenty of sharp metal edges that were shaped to mimic tendrils of flames.  The blue metal, then silvery-white met behind the golden phoenix relief should have looked ridiculous and weighed a ton but-no.  High Elves were _glorious_ so not only did Dorah look completely badass, he was far lighter than most common shields.  Certainly lighter than her bone shield had been!

Tanyth knew Solaria was named for the sun- no real surprise there- while the Elren’dorah was an older name that meant something about valor and water.  Her wrist bracers- that looped around her thumb to hold them in place properly- held small daggers in their undersides, and were enchanted to bring her sword and-or shield to the ready at the slightest twitch of magic or the Light applied to the decorative swirls on the thumb.  Same for the daggers, but it was the sword and shield being easy access that really made her life so much easier.

And safe.  Safe was good!

Minor complaints aside, she loved her gear.  And she was incredibly grateful for Kannan’s head’s up, as his father really was a strange mix of a disconnected from reality spender and a bit of a micromanager.

Hence why she was sporting a hairdo that was close to her natural color only with caramel and maroon highlights running through it.  A compromise as Kelo’reem had positively _despaired_ over her hair not matching her armor.

High Elves, man.  Old-as-trees _High Elves_.

Kannan was looking entirely like his asshole-ish self, his hair matching his red open-front robes perfectly.  The robes were a low collared, three-quarters length sleeve affair with a golden-edged button-up vest over fitted dark pants that tucked into calf-length, slightly heeled red leather boots.  The leather would be uncomfortable except- enchantments and silken fabric that acted like cotton and felt like water sewn into the undersides.  His bracers called his bow to him like hers did her sword and shield, and his quiver and goldenwood bow were currently strapped to his back.

It looked good on him.  But it amused the heck out of her that High Elves were so ‘I’m not only going to kill you, I’m going to look flawless while doing so’ in actual, real life. 

And here she had thought it had been an exaggeration.

They held their heavily enchanted backpacks in their hands, planning to use them as shield to break their fall if Kelo’reem’s calculations were a bit off and they ended up setting onto thin air.  Tanyth’s old, stolen backpack was inside her new one, as thankfully the enchantments on the two different bags didn’t have any conflicts.

Or so they thought.

Kelo’reem clapping his hands together sharply brought their attention to him.  He was dressed in his usual style of robes, but had the sleeves rolled up his pale arms for this particular task.  “Now, it will take a great deal of my concentration to open the portal.  So once it is stable you need to go through _immediately_.”  He pursed his lips at the bags they held loosely at their sides.  “As you are aware the old lands are inside the inner portion of the Maelstrom, so there might be up to a fully grown man’s height’s worth of difference between my portal’s threshold and the land itself- assuming you don’t end up over water, which is more likely.”

Kelo’reem had been scrying the best location to enter the old lands for years, but because they were inside the chaotic flow of the Maelstrom- in sort of a ‘false eye of the storm’ manner- they tended to shift at random intervals.  The ‘Broken Isles’ were what was left of the areas that were closest to the Well of Eternity before the Sundering.  If not for the lands being built from solid earth the Isles would have been ripped into the chaotic Maelstrom ages ago.  As it were, the ten thousand years of the seas eroding the foundations of the modern isles meant they were being more affected by the Maelstrom as time went on.  Still quite stable for the moment, but prone to shifting slightly at unexpected moments. 

The Broken Isles’ foundations were torn between the steadily siphoning waters of the ocean and the insistent pull of the Maelstrom itself, so it was to be expected that there would be a decent margin of error.  Even for a mage of Kelo’reem’s caliber.  Because of this it was better to be too high than too low, as being too low might cause the portal to deposit them deep within solid earth. 

And, you know, suffocation and death were a thing.  Not a _good_ thing, but a possible thing.

“You have the runestones.  As soon as you find an appropriate area, get them laid down so they may begin charging!”  Kelo’reem went on to tell them for the eightieth millionth time.  “By my calculations it could take up to a month for them to charge, so it’s best to get that started as soon as possible.”  The man, quite frankly, fretted with their gear and armor for a long moment before nodding and striding over to a drawn arcane circle on his basement floor.  “Be safe, the both of you.”  He informed them in a lofty, somewhat less-than-entirely assured tone.  A rarity for the self-assured elf.  “I will be waiting on this side with bated breath, so don’t get distracted and leave me in suspense!”

Then the arcane power that had been collecting in the glowing script for who knows how long rose, like a wave against the rocky shore.  It built and twisted, creating a haze of purples and blues as Kelo’reem’s already bright blue eyes glowed with supernatural power. 

The air grew thick, difficult to breathe.  Like trying to breathe in threads of cotton candy and ending up covered in the stuff instead.  Or maybe trying to clean your mouth with molasses after eating those deep fried cinnabon things.   

Tanyth’s chest constricted slightly as her breaths grew shorter and just when she thought she was going to fly apart in a messy conclusion from the pressure gripping her like a vice-

-a rift opened, blue threads slowly working the purple tear in reality opened further.  The portal wobbled dangerously for a heart-stopping moment- this much power destabilizing would kill them all at this range, they had been warned- and then a lush green field appeared on the other side.

Tanyth grabbed Kannan’s hand and raced through before she could second-guess herself.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

“Ow!”  Tanyth grunted as she tumbled onto her front, her bag breaking her fall.  Of course, then Kannan dropped onto her legs on top of his bag and she growled.  “Hey!  Get your own landing spot!”  She whined.

“My apologies.”  Kannan muttered mutinously as he removed himself from her person and then, much more urgently.  “Ah, Tan?  _Get the hell off the ground_!”

Tanyth looked around and paled.

_Motherfucker._

They had landed on a slightly overgrown road, with a lush green hill off to the right and a set of mountains to their left.  Right in front of them however-

“Withered.”  Tanyth whispered in horror as the glowing-purple-eyes, gray skinned, emaciated corpses- they looked a little like bobblehead Sméagol’s, really- locked onto her form with hungry, insane intent.  They peeked out from crumbling Night Elf pavilions and buildings with what were once elegant stairs like demented, curious suburban gossipers. Their greedy madness made her shiver. 

Kanan backed up until they were standing back-to-back.  They had been practicing this fighting stance the past week, and now she could manage to shield him so long as she could feel him.  Well, sense him.

All around the ruins of what was once no doubt a beautiful city, pink glassy crystals were interspersed with small areas of grass, old road, or buildings.  There was a large scar-like chasm that ran off beyond what Tanyth could see at a glance and she was pretty sure they weren’t far from the divide between Azsuna and Val’sharah.

Maybe.  She was pretty sure this was the area was called Zarkenhar or something.  If she was correct, than they were at the northernmost tip of Azsuna.

_Very_ far away from where they intended to land.  There were supposed to be south of this area, near what looked like an old temple that was surrounded by grassy plains and lion-cat things.

Holy crap they’d almost died!  Just a little further and they would have appeared high over open water or into a pit of hydra or Sea Giants or something!

“Ah, details?”  Kannan prodded insistently as she felt his bow disappear from his back.

Tanyth called Solaria to her right hand and Dorah to her left hand.  She swallowed nervously as the crazed shells that were once Nightborne citizens ambled towards them, not entirely sure whether she and Kannan were worth eating just yet.  “Zombies.  Basically they have a relentless desire for all things magic….and also people.  I guess because we also have some arcane traces inside us or something.”

That was about the time that the zombies decided to rush them.

Their talon-like claws left gashes on her little bits of exposed skin.  Even the slightest touch from one made her feel incredibly weak.  She kept the ground beneath her feet glowing molten gold with Consecration’s enhancement to counteract the unnatural weariness.  She Power Word: Shielded herself and Kannan alternately whenever she could manage.  She tried to use her Power Word: Fortitude to keep their stamina from lagging.

The Withered were so weak that they went down easily- they really had no fat or muscle tone to speak of- but getting in close enough while also keeping Kannan at her back and not stumbling over the downhill terrain was stressful.  Still, it only took one decent strike with Solaria or some elbow-grease force behind a bash with Dorah and they went down, usually tumbling down the small hill.  Some got back up, but none made it back up to her position.

Dorah proved his worth in blocking their sickly pinkish draining spells and being used to make clumps of them scatter.  Usually bleeding and wounded.  Solaria made them scream- and the scent of singed flesh was decidedly unpleasant- but Tanyth had gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing such things with Onyxia and then again in the Barrens, learning how to rough it with Masa and Redda.

But, zerg tactics.  That was the problem with Withered.  They _swarmed_.  And after ten thousand years to wander without much resistance, there were more than enough of them to overwhelm.

And Tanyth and Kannan had landed just outside the edges of an exposed leyline.  Thankfully they hadn’t landed smack dab in the middle of the damn thing, as fighting in the uneven, short-drop-sudden-stop terrain would have probably made her break an ankle and then be made zombie food.  The pink crystals- is that what clotted leyblood looked like?  Or had they always been crystals?- looked like glass, too.  So they were probably slippery as heck and sharp as fuck.

But because they were so near to an exposed leyline there were a massive amount of desperate Withered.

_Shield.  Slash.  Bash.  Circle back.  Power bash.  Consecrate.  Shield.  Slash.  Fortitude.  Bash.  Slash._

“Tan!” Tanyth got distracted and a Withered got in a lucky hit to her neck with its talon-hands.  They were technically ‘normal’ hands, if only having four appendages, but the nails were black and jagged.

“I’m fine!”  She called back, feeling the Light clot and begin to heal the injury, though not before she bled all over everything.  “But there are some baby dragon looking things in that small pool to the left!  I think they’re still alive!”

“That’s great, but can we _focus_?!”  Kannan called back, sounding breathless and strained.

It felt like _hours_ before the Withered stopped popping up as fast as they dropped, Kannan having to cover Tanyth twice when she tripped over corpses.  Her Power Words: Shield and Fortitude got quite the workout, though.  To be fair Kannan had also fallen once, so she didn’t feel _too_ embarrassed.

Really.

They worked their way back and to the left, trying to put their back to the mountains.  In short bursts of conversation they agreed that the height would most likely kill any Withered that tried to ambush them, as the first sign of a road was pretty far above the small cave at the bottom.

“Unless the bastards can still use magic and Slow Fall!”  Tanyth hollered, sticking Solaria through two Withered and using Dorah to send a cluster down the hill in a tangle of limbs.

“Don’t jinx us, idiot!”  Kannan called back, reduced to calling down a strike of brute force flames that unfurled from the impact point and set the ground alight for a short while in order to get some distance while he tugged arrows free of corpses.  The fire didn’t really set anything _else_ on fire outside of its pre-planned radius, but the smell was deeply unpleasant.

By the time the herd thinned down it was nearly midday and they had left Dalaran shortly after breakfast.

Kannan called down another flamestrike and the remaining Withered either rushed them or ran back across the road in terror.  Tanyth, in between catching her breath and dry-retching, managed to get two shields up and going at the same time as they weren’t constantly taking a beating.  Some of her battle calm dissipated once she managed to pull herself together and she glanced at Kannan.  “Did you buff us or something?”

“Arcane Brilliance, baby.”  Kannan replied with a tired grin, pouring some water from his waterskin over his hair.  “Helps mages keep their calm and recall their incantations under duress.”

“Totally helped.”  Tanyth told him, bumping shoulders with her conman-turned-buddy before she turned her eyes back towards the shallow mana-crystal pools off to the side.  “Hey!  Look!  I was right!”

Tanyth jogged over towards the pool, looking down at the adorable blue little whelpling dragons.  A few were obviously dead- and that made her really sad because they were adorable!- but a few were still breathing.  They were about the size of the average cat, if she had to make a comparison.  Just with wings.  And scales.

“Blue Dragonflight has a natural attunement to the leylines.  Magic.”  Kannan said from beside her, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings.  “I didn’t expect to run into any Blue dragons here, but they can’t have been moved far.”  Kannan tossed her a glance as she waded through the clear water of the pool to drag all of the whelplings to the shore- alive or not.  “You know that thing that you do with the Light?  Do that, but draw from the arcane that’s all around us.  It might help, not sure if the Light would.”

Tanyth nodded, closing the eyes of three of the whelplings and moving to the four that were still breathing, if shallowly.  There was one that seemed to be worse off than the others, so she started with it.

It was….difficult to not just reach for the Light.  It took her a bit to reach through her instinctual response and into her surroundings, leaching arcane energy from around her.

Some of the Light mixed with the arcane she was channeling but meh.

Slowly- Kannan let at least three arrows loose in the intervening time- the little whelpling’s breaths evened out and its adorable little blue wings began to flutter.  The little guy’s eyes finally opened and blue reptilian eyes stared back at her.

“Well, that’s you, little one.”  Tanyth cooed, tapping the whelpling on the snout gently- as she would do for a human baby- and moving to the next.

Once all four were up and moving again Tanyth solemnly wrapped the three deceased whelpings in cloth and stored them in her bag.  “It seems as if we’re gonna have to play escort, so I might as well return them properly.”  She grumbled under Kannan’s longsuffering stare. 

Despite her trying to shoo them off the well-again whelplings were sticking close to her.  She had one on each shoulder and another on her head.  The sickest one had made themselves home in her arms, cheeping in annoyance whenever she had to put them down.

“Shut up!”  She blustered at Kannan as they carefully made their way out of the Withered-infested- Kannan retrieving as many arrows as he could along the way- area following Left Shoulder Whelpling, who had apparently elected themselves tour guide.

They ran into a few more Withered along the way as they traveled into some woods, along a mostly washed out road made of flagstones with elvish script, but they were easily dealt with.  The woods were gorgeous; some of the trees were thicker than she was tall!  There were foxes that scampered by, uninterested in them, and she actually saw a real-life unicorn, but soon they left the ‘main’ road and traveled up a winding mountain path.

Tanyth’s legs protested heartily- and they were starving but didn’t dare stop to dig out rations just yet- but she and Kannan persisted, occasionally commenting on the untouched beauty of the land.  It was easy to see that there was once something more to this land; apparent that the Well of Eternity’s legacy lived on, even though it had long faded into legend.

Eventually they broke through a tree line and ended up at the business end of a pointy spear.  A pointy spear wielded by a scaled, four-legged, wingless dragonspawn with a vaguely humanoid torso.  The face was draconian, scaled with reptilian golden eyes.

And something happened that Tanyth should have expected-

She couldn’t understand a damn word the dragonspawn snarled at them. 

Dragonspawn were a flightless, centaur-but-with-a-dragon and the upper body of a lizard with humanoid arms.  Legend said that they were people who dedicated themselves to serving the dragons and were transformed, but even the lore had been vague.  Then again, it was lucky the lore got anything right considering the complexities of reality were often more absurd than fiction. 

Fiction had to make _sense_ , reality often did not.

Kannan looked just as lost as she felt- or so she gathered from the glance she risked- but the chirping of the little whelplings seemed to be staying the hand of the guards.

For now.

The dragonspawn warden went through what sounded like several languages before Kannan answered in kind.  Reluctantly the spears were lowered from their throats and the guard made some vaguely threatening gestures.

“We’re supposed to follow them.”  Kannan whispered, giving the whelplings perched on her person an harassed look.

“Ah.  Taking us to their leader then?”  She asked, tickling formerly-sickliest whelpling under their chin before Right Shoulder Whelpling demanded some attention.

“Yes.”  Kannan replied succinctly, and she forgave him for his assholishness this once.  She, too, was hungry, sore, had wounds that needed bandaging, and was displeased at being a pseudo-prisoner.

They were led down the road, over a few less-than-intact bridges and around a bend before being directed to a well worn dirt path that disappeared into a thick copse of tall evergreen trees.  Past the treeline there were dragons everywhere.  A fair few dragonspawn, too.  In the center of the secluded clearing was a massive pool much like the one the whelplings had been found in, only this one was purposely being infused with arcane power.  Off to the side were a few cave formations, but Tanyth’s attention was focused mostly on the Blue Dragon in the pool.

_‘Senegos?’_   She wondered, having more than memorized the ancient Blue Dragon’s name after going through Azsuna on _eight_ different characters.

The dragon had the same blue eyes as his whelplings, but he also had small crystal-like growths that she assumed were the dragon answer to liver spots, as well as a set curved horns on the top of his head, and a set on either side of his neck, near the back of his massive maw.  The horns glowed with power, shimmering even in the sparse daylight that managed to filter through the thick trees.  Like all dragons he seemed to have either loose skin or hair that made a ‘beard’ under his chin and some of his teeth were visible even with his mouth closed.

The whelplings immediately left Tanyth and flew straight to the old dragon, chittering happily and making themselves a nuisance as all children were wont to do.

“Ah.  These are the visitors then.”  The great dragon said in Common, his words wheezy and somewhat labored.  “My wardens tell me that you saved my children from the wretched Withered.”  The dragon coughed, and a few whelplings- newly introduced- came out of the caves and dropped glowing pink crystals into the pool. “You have my thanks, small ones.”

“Rest, grandfather.  I can take things from here.”  The voice was feminine and matched the Highborne guise the Blue Dragon was wearing.  “I am Stellagosa, you have our thanks for bringing the whelplings back to us.  My grandfather, Senegos, has been feeling unwell as of late and the Withered have sensed our distraction.”

“Yeah, they like to swarm, don’t they?”  Tanyth replied dryly to the- well, blue elf.  Light Blue hair, bright blue eyes, blue robes- there was a theme there.  Tanyth knelt down and opened her pack, laying out the neatly wrapped deceased whelplings.  “These little ones were already gone by the time we managed to force the Withered into retreat, I’m sorry.”

Stellagosa came forward and unwrapped the bundles sadly, handing them off to a few of the dragonspawn that came forward to aid her.  Once the makeshift shrouds were empty she collected a few loose scales and returned the cloth to Tanyth.  “Thank you for returning them to us, traveler.”

“Least I could do.”  Tanyth shrugged as she stuffed the cloth into her pack and hopped to her feet.  “I’m Tanyth and he’s Kannan-“  She jerked a thumb towards the asshole in question.  “-we came to scout out a place for Kannan’s dad to move his house to.  He’s a researcher and wants to study the old lands.  We’re here to see if we can gather up some crystalized mana.  I’ve-We’ve got a feeling that some might be needed soon.”

Stellagosa tilted her head curiously, but didn’t press the issue.

“Hey, wait!”  Tanyth exclaimed, looking between Stellagosa and Senegos suspiciously.  “How can you two even speak Common?  It’s a relative new language!”

Both dragons in question laughed, Senegos’ hearty laughter dislodging a few of his offspring.  “Ah, thank you little one!”  The great dragon rumbled after a short pause to cough.  “We haven’t had much laughter as of late.  As to your question…..while each dragon brood, the smaller family units of a Dragonflight, keep to themselves we do occasionally cooperate with each other.  Our Northrend kin taught us the language a number of years past during one such exchange.”

Well.  That explained quite a bit.

“Ah.  I see!  Thank you for humoring me!”  Tanyth chirped, ready to find some place to camp for the night.  Bringing back some whelplings or no, she sincerely doubted that the reclusive dragons of Azurewing Repose would invite her and Kannan to stay the night.  “Well, we should get moving.  We need to find a suitable place to set up our basecamp.”

“Down the main road several leagues from here are the shades of the Highborne who were under the rule of Prince Farondis.”  Stellagosa offered, seeming relieved that they were planning on moving along.  “The last time I went for a flyover I noticed that the makura have allied themselves with naga.”  Seeing the looks on their faces, Stellagosa elaborated.  “The makura have become militant in recent years, and the serpentine naga are brutes, some of whom wield magic.  Our Blue Dragon brethren have told us that these naga are actually cursed elves, but I don’t know that for certain.”

“They are.”  Tanyth replied, mind whirring furiously.  “They are subjects of Queen Azshara who turned to the Old Gods when the Well exploded all those years ago.  They rebuilt deep under the waters, a city called…uhh…Nazjatar or something like that.  It’s close to the makura home city, I think.”

Lost in thought, Tanyth missed the interested looks from the dragons- and the exasperated one from Kannan.

Had the naga been active in the Broken Isles before even the Third War?

As far as she could remember- and the Third War timeline had never been her strong point- Illidan had cast some sort of spell towards the depths, searching for a ‘get out of the Eastern Kingdoms alive’ card.  Lady…uhh, Vash’j?  Vashj?  Whatever.  Former Azshara Handmaiden Number One answered the call with a fair number of lackeys because they knew of Illidan- even before the Sundering he was sort of a Big Deal- and were even more excited about him having demonfied himself.

And Thrall saw one when he was rescuing the Darkspear, but didn’t find out what it was until much later.

However, were the naga showing up in Azsuna because of the ripple effect or because they had built up their powerbase slowly?  Azshara was terrifyingly patient, for all that she was a gigantic mass of malice and conceit.

“Well, we’ll head that way, see if we can get permission to set up camp nearby.  Thank you Stellagosa, Senegos.” Kannan was saying, right before he grabbed Tanyth’s arm and all but dragged her away, giving her barely enough time to wave cheerfully at the dragons.

“Wait!”  Stellagosa called, halting them before they breached the treeline.  The dragon-in-elven guise jogged over to them and smiled. “While I’m unsure if I believe your story concerning the naga, you did rescue and return our whelplings.”  Stellagosa smiled and gathered pure blue arcane power into her upraised left palm.  “The cursed elves speak one of the ancient dialects of Darnassian.  I can gift you the knowledge of the language, though you’ll have to practice using it to train your body to speak it.”

“That would be amazing!”  Tanyth chirped, though she eyed the ball of arcane fire warily.  “But amazing feats of magic usually have a cost.”

Stellagosa laughed, and across the way Senegos chuckled.  “Usually, yes.  However, I am a Blue and we are a bit different.”  The woman flashed them a fanged grin.  “Essentially my spell will pull on your connection to the arcane, lessening the effects of having so much information being transmitted so…abruptly.”  Stellagosa raised her left hand and wrapped the fire around her fingers before touching Tanyth’s forehead.

Tanyth immediately felt twice as tired as before.  She blinked rapidly as if she had been underwater for so long her lungs burned and- like a tension headache on top of a sinus headache- a bubble burst inside her head.  She wavered a bit as Stellagosa’s fingers retreated, blinking rapidly as her mind shifted.

“It will take a while to settle.”  Stellagosa told her as the Blue began to gather blue arcane energy again.  “But by the time you reach the cursed elves the spell should have finished settling.  You’ll still have to practice speaking, and this is only the verbal portion of the language.  You’ll have to learn to read and write it the old fashioned way, I’m afraid.”

“Still, this much is invaluable!  Thank you!”  Tanyth said enthusiastically as Stellagosa repeated the procedure with Kannan.  “I hadn’t even thought that- well, Kannan is fluent in Thalassian and several of the arcane languages, so we figured we’d just…wing it.”

“’Wing it’?”  Stellagosa inquired, her head tilted to the side in curiosity. 

“Oh!  Sorry!  It’s a…turn of phrase?  It basically means ‘improvise as you go’.  Like a baby bird learning to fly after being pushed out of their nest.”  Tanyth blathered while Kannan leaned against her and rubbed at his temples.

“Ah.  I see.”  Stellagosa returned with a smile, stepping back and gesturing to the treeline.  “Hopefully things will go well and we’ll have the opportunity to get to know one another better.”

“That would be awesome!”  Tanyth cheered, waving goodbye as Kannan grabbed her and started for the trees.

Senegos’ rumbling laughter followed them out.

 

**\--XXX---**

“You have _got_ to start thinking before you speak!”  Kannan ranted- quietly- at her once they were a good ways down the road.  Since the area seemed to relatively Withered-free, they had dug out some ration bars and dried meat to sate their aching stomachs.

It was really a lovely view, in a ruined-utopia-by-the-sea sort of way.  According to Kelo’reem’s research the ‘eye’ of the Maelstrom was actually quite the distance across, with Aszuna being the closest to the churning vortex of death of the inner Maelstrom.  So, while she knew they were within the outer edges and the fuck-you-up center of the Maelstrom, she couldn’t actually see any of the crazy on the horizon.

It left her feeling….lopsided.  To be surrounded by such beautiful scenery knowing that the Maelstrom was slowly pulling the Broken Isles toward destruction and yet being unable to see so much as a hint of the impending calamity.  The sky was bright blue, with the occasional fluffy sheep cloud and the breeze made the summer heat pleasant instead of oppressive.  There were beautiful bridges that looked like wood and felt like stone that took them over beautiful waterfalls and it almost felt dreamlike-

What the fuck was that noise?

Oh, yeah.  Kannan was talking.  Excuse her, _ranting_.

“-swear to whatever deity you worship that you’re gonna get kidnapped and then _I’m_ going to rescue you just so I can tell you ‘ _I told you_ so’ and- are you even listening to me you little shrimp?!”  Kannan broke off his flow of words to level Tanyth an unimpressed look.

Tanyth privately though that he’d cross his arms to underscore his dissatisfaction with the situation if he hadn’t been using one to carry his pack.

“Uhm, shut up you idiot you’re gonna get yourself dissected?”  She offered when it became clear he was actually expecting an answer.

“Kidnapped.  Then dissected.”  He corrected in aggravation, looking up towards the sky for a long moment before he returned his gaze to the road.  “Seriously, Tanyth.  How can you be so smart and yet so reckless?!”

Tanyth blinked owlishly.  “Are you…..lecturing me on _responsibility_?” 

Because that would be the most on-point, that-activates-my-hilarity-unit case of pot meet kettle, cousin wok, and uncle skillet that she’d ever witnessed in _either_ of her lives.

“Yes!”  Kannan snapped back at her without missing a beat.

They stopped.  Looked at each other for a long, suspended moment.

Then Tanyth _died laughing_.  She laughed so hard she was certain her soul left her body at one point when her stomach ached _from laughing so damn hard_.

“Laugh it up, midget.”  Kannan grumbled ungraciously, entirely missing what was _so damn funny_ about his motherhenning.

They started walking again, with Tanyth leaning heavily against her unamused companion.  “Oh, come on!”  She whined a bit later when he was still pointedly projecting ‘you’re ridiculous, I’m no longer speaking to you’ vibes.  “You _can’t_ tell me you don’t see what is so damn funny about _you_ lecturing _me_ on responsibility.”

“It’s not that!  It’s that you don’t seem to have the slightest concept of self-preservation unless it’s someone else’s life on the line, Tanyth!”  Kannan growled, peeling her off of him and turning her to face him properly.  “I don’t know what weird sort of things happened in your past- even if that past goes beyond thirteen years ago in a refugee camp near Alterac.”  Kannan ran an agitated hand through his hair and glowered at her.  “But _your life_ _matters_.  It matters to me.  It matters to Redda and Masa.  It matters to my damn old man.  Why doesn’t it matter to _you_?”

Caught somewhat unawares, Tanyth dropped her pack and crossed her arms across her midsection.  “Because it really doesn’t.”  Tanyth told him, honestly, looking directly into his bright blue eyes as the words tumbled out of her mouth against her better judgement.  “I wasn’t anyone important then and I’m not anyone important now.  I’m just one person against a worlds.  Legions.”  Tanyth frowned and dropped her gaze to the ground.  “What does it matter if I say too much if it helps just _one_ person in the story I remember?  There were so many…so many tragedies that could have been victories.”

“Because, _idiot_ , you can help a lot more if you’re alive.”  Kannan grumbled, tapping her chin until she looked up at him.  “And devaluing your own life is a bad path.  It makes you disconnected and apathetic or one of those pious, arrogant pricks.  Neither of those would suit you.  _Idiot_.”

Tanyth rolled her eyes, lips twitching up into a smile as she forced down the stupid urge to cry.  “I guess….I think it’s part of how I dealt with Katrana.  The person who gave me all my awesome battle scars.”  Tanyth bit her lip and hugged herself tighter.  “I think…..disassociating is what helped me stay sane.”

“And there’s no shame in that.”  Kannan assured her, setting them moving again.  “None at all.  Those scars are proof that you’re not nobody.”

“Heh.  I never thought about it like that.”  Tanyth laughed softly, thoughtfully; the sort of chuckle that was usually reserved for gallows humor.  She swiped her pack’s handle and started moving, too.  “It’s just….this Third War that’s coming.  It’s going to be _brutal_ , and it sets so many things in motion I couldn’t even list them all.  I just feel so helpless against it.”

“That bad, huh?”  Kannan mused, calmer now that she had seen things from his point of view.  “I assume that’s why you’re suddenly interested in crystallized mana?”

“I met the Prince who leads the march to the Sunwell, an event that nearly wipes the High Elves from Azeroth.  And I thought him kind.”  Tanyth answered seriously, keeping her eyes fixed on the greenery and bridges in the distance.  “He had laugh lines around his eyes and felt even more closely connected to the Light than I do.  And I _knew_ ; knew the fate he was unknowingly walking towards and I did _nothing_.”

“What _could_ you have done?”  Kannan tossed back at her, ever the pragmatic asshole.  “You said you were with your former guardian for three years- so this had to be before that.  You were what, nine?  Ten, maybe?  People choose their own paths, Tanyth.  This here?  We’re _doing_ _something_.  My old man is _motivated_.  Do you have any idea what it takes to motivate a nearly five thousand year old elf?”  Kannan helped her over a shattered section of bridge, holding onto her for a smidge longer than strictly necessary and causing her to peer up at him.  “Was I in this story?  My dad?  Redda?  Masa?  You might not have stopped the avalanche but you warned the people down the hill.  Stop trying to invalidate the actions of others- for good or ill.  Hate to break it to you kiddo, but not everything is about you.  Good or bad.”

Tanyth chewed on that while they rounded a small hillside and eventually came to a long stretch of road littered with derelict structures, crumbling formerly elegant structures, and a large ruined once-palatial looking building perched precariously on the edge of a particularly jagged hill.  Across a span of sparkling blue waters to their left she could see the ruins of a city, with another once-palatial building half sunken into the depths.  Murlocs- walking fish that were sort of cute but hurt like hell because they tended to mob a poor sap- had crude huts along the sandy shoreline, on both sides.

“ _Who’s there?  Keep your hands and weapons where I can see them_!”  A voice called out.  It had a sort of echoey, ethereal quality to it.

Kannan and Tanyth stopped, holding themselves entirely still as a ghostly elf melted out of the shadows of a cracked archway and stalked towards them.

“ _What do you want?_ ”  The translucent ghost demanded, her silvery eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“ _To dialogue….chat….speak!  To speak with Prince Farondis.”_   Kannan informed her, the words not nearly as smooth and fluid as the ghost’s, but far better than Tanyth could have attempted.

Tanyth wasn’t sure if Stellagosa’s spell was in full effect just yet, as she had understood the words spoken but couldn’t seem to metaphorically grasp the foreign sounding sounds into a coherent formulation of her own.

The ghost’s eyes flared with anger for a moment and her mouth turned from a neutral line to a scowl.  _“I will escort you to Farondis-“_ She spat the name like a curse.  _“-if that is what you truly wish.  But first you must do something for me.”_

_“Yes?”_   Kannan inquired warily, watching the ghostly woman intently.

_“These naga…sea beasts….began attacking us without warning.  They’ve dragged many of my Nightwatchers beyond the bridge on the far side of Nar’Thalas and trapped them at the bottom of the sea.”_ The ghostly elf grimaced in distaste.  _“As you might have noticed we are cursed to live as ghosts.  Meaning my lost Nightwatchers are unable to die, but also unable to free themselves.  Liberate seven of them and bring me the head of the naga leader- he calls himself Zarithos- and I will escort you to Farondis.”_

_“Deal.”_   Kannan replied, reaching out a hand which the ghostly woman grasped at the wrist.  After a long moment of silence and an impromptu staring contest, they released each other and Kannan turned to Tanyth.  “You want to leave our packs here?”  He asked her in Common.

“Might as well.”  Tanyth replied, chewing on her bottom lip as she checked the position of the sun before glancing back to her companion.  “You wouldn’t happen to know a waterbreathing spell, would you?”

“Matter of fact, I do.”  Kannan replied, taking her pack and looping the enchanted tether through the proper loops before setting them behind some bushes and activating the security enchantments.  “Had a thing with a warlock once upon a time.  They tend to have need of it when they mess around inside the Nether.”

Kelo’reem swore the enchanted satchels were all but impenetrable without the flat discs that served as keys.  Tanyth and Kannan both were wearing the medallion-sized things as neckwear, so- in theory- their bags should remain unmolested while they were off doing what suspiciously felt like drudge work.

“Well, then let’s go see if I can swing a sword underwater!”  Tanyth chirped, hopping over to Kannan and waving cheerfully at the silently observing Nightwatcher as she dragged them towards the direction of the beach.  “Onwards!”

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I can't write fight scenes to save my life.
> 
> My apologies.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

The trek to the shore was further than it looked.  They had to skirt a waterfall and a rather treacherous, staggered series of rocks before they made it to the sandy beach and then they were almost immediately beset upon by murlocs.

Tanyth would just like to point out how _absurd_ murlocs were.  Most of them were slightly shorter than she was!  They had bulbous bodies- with comically skinny legs and arms and a squat body- and large mouths lined with rows of sharp fangs. Their skinny legs and arms tapered off into dangerously, wickedly clawed hands and feet.  Their skin was slime-coated; and not just slime-coated, the slime burned when it flecked off onto Tanyth’s skin.

Still, they were so ugly they were cute.  Running around with makeshift spears shouting ‘mmmmgrl!’.

That didn’t make them any less deadly, cute or not.  Their makeshift spears had unexpected reach, given their disproportionate arms and even unarmed they could inflict damage with their hardened nails and jagged teeth.  After fighting Withered all morning, the murlocs weren’t as intimidating as they could have been but the battle had been far from easy.

One launched itself at Tanyth and tried to take off her shield arm.  Thankfully the enchantments on her armor deflected all but a few scratches, but those scratches bloomed worryingly red and puffy.  Her renewing her Consecrate fried the little bugger, but her arm definitely felt much weaker and almost on fire afterwards.

After taking heavy losses, the murlocs scattered, leaving their allies behind as they raced for the water.  Tanyth and Kannan weren’t stupid enough to immediately follow the vicious little mutant fish into the waters.

They fished out a few potions from their bandolier belts- which Kelo’reem had insisted on- and drank them down.  A few cure poison, one cure disease, and restorative draught each, they tucked away the empty phials and discussed their next options.

It was a bit odd to watch wounds seal up without using the Light to do so.  Instead of the healthy brilliance sinking into the skin and repairing it from the inside, the restorative draught used provided alchemic properties- ‘healing potions’ used stored fat or muscle in desperate cases- to speed up the natural healing process. 

Not unlike a time lapse video or something. 

The wounds itched nearly unbearably while they closed, and there was a lingering itch that remained afterwards.  According to Kelo’reem the itch would last until the body had caught up to the draught- anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks, depending on the injury healed.  Still better than going into a battle underwater with open wounds, though.

“Ok, so waterbreathing- well, technically the spell is called ‘unending breath’.”  Kannan spoke softly, and neither of them took their eyes off their surroundings.  “It lasts about ten minutes, and since it’s mostly used in the Nether, the newer versions also help compensate for physical resistance.  It can be renewed while underwater, but if it breaks you have to start over.”

“So, if it breaks you gotta surface before it can be recast.”  Tanyth murmured, mostly to clarify the fact for her own peace of mind.

“Precisely.”  Kannan answered as a particularly strong breeze ripped over the waters and kicked up sand, blood, and fish scales.  “It gives off a blue glow that slowly fades to green- the greener, the shorter the time left.  The problem is, the color can only be seen by whoever the spell is cast on.  Something to do with how it pulls in fresh air and gets rid of spent breaths.  So I’m going to cast it on myself first, as then if I forget and the spell breaks I’ll notice.  It _can_ break from strain so try to dodge as best you can.”

“Got it.”  Tanyth replied, squinting against the sun, which was hanging low in sky and dyeing the waters a myriads of reds.  “The captive Nightwatchers should be straight out, right?  Near that broke-in-half, sidewayish bridge?”

“From where she pointed, yeah.”  Kannan replied, still tense and wary.  “Ghosts tend to give off a bit of an aura, so they should be reasonably easy to spot underwater.  We’ve only got an hour, maybe two of light left, though.”

“And those overgrown lizards on the far shore look like trouble.”  Tanyth pointed out, gesturing towards some crocodile-cousin looking things surrounded by eerily lifelike rock statues.

“Yeah, those are basilisks.  Some can petrify with a look.”  Kannan sighed and scrubbed at his hair in a very stressed manner.  “Let’s try to not mess with them, if we can help it.  That way one of us can free the Nightwatchers and the other can keep an eye out.”  Kannan muttered under his breath for a moment.  “Oh, yeah.  You’ll be able to talk, but it’ll be really muffled and it messes with the spell so try not to as much as you can.  Not so bad in the Nether, but underwater the spells acts weird.”

“No time like the present.”  Tanyth muttered, standing still while Kannan muttered an incantation.  Once for himself and once for her.

‘Unending breath’ felt strange.  Like she was wrapped in plastic wrap or something.  It was almost as if a machine was breathing for her instead of her breathing for herself.

They made for the shore, carefully edging their way in.  Once underwater Tanyth felt the calm of the arcane brilliance spell take hold of her, and she returned the favor by keeping her Power Word: Shield and Power Word: Fortitude enhancements up.  While Kannan’s waterbreathing spell was rather uncomfortable, it at least kept her clothes mostly dry.  So there was that.  Power Word: Shield expelled the water from around her person, so it was a little tricky to walk inside of it while underwater.

Actually, it was very strange.  She was still underwater and yet it felt like walking on dry land- she took steps.  Then the shield collapsed and she was swimming again.

_Peculiar_.

Underwater was much like above-water, really.  A ruined utopia covered in moss and other green reclamations.  The detail on a lot of the buildings had survived, though.  A testament to the craftsmanship of the ancient kaldorei.

As far as underwater pests.  Turtles left them alone, but there were a few small sharks that took some effort to chase away.  Packs of murlocs did their best to use the downed pillars and other debris from the ancient cataclysm as ambush points, but Kannan and Tanyth were able to dispatch them fairly handily.  The largest pack was one of twelve, and that one was tricky but they managed.  Mostly thanks to Kannan heating up the water on one side and forcing all the little cretins into Tanyth’s sword.  A few especially smart ones made a run for it, so that helped the duo too. 

Tanyth still ended up with some stinging, oozing scratches on her face while Kannan had a nasty set of cuts on his arm.  Tanyth didn’t dare heal them, either, because they bled sluggishly- a sign of poisoned wound.  And it wasn’t like they could potion up while underwater, so they were forced to let the wounds ooze. 

Blood in the water meant attracting sharks, so they ended up having to kill one or two of the persistent ones.

It was weird swinging her sword underwater, as it took a great deal more force to make her hits connect.  As she was also swimming while fighting- at least whenever her shield was down- a lot of her momentum came from using random bits of debris- or Kannan- as a springboard.  She didn’t even bother calling Dorah out just yet, preferring to save her energy.  Kannan had put away his bow and was using a polearm, spear thing that he had kept stored inside his bracer.

She hadn’t even known he could use a polearm. 

_Asshole_. 

And he’d made her work so hard back in the Barrens trying to teach him combat skills, too!

The light dipped lower and lower on the horizon as they skirted around the above-water ruins of the city of Nar’Thalas and towards the bridge.  The crystalline stones that Tanyth was fairly sure came from a leyline being exposed gave off a fair bit of light, though, so there was _some_ light other than the overhead sun.

Rounding a time-worn section of ancient night elf architecture Tanyth nearly had her head taken off by a wicked looking trident.

Naga looked like upright snakes with fishy accents.  They had arms but walked upright balanced on a snaketail.  There were fins and colored membranes on them as well as glittering scales.  It was difficult to judge height underwater, but they were taller than her.  There were also brutes- an unholy combination of a normal naga and a monkey, with four legs and a ‘I bench-press chumps like you for breakfast’ core.  Also taller than her.

Guess which one was trying to kill her?

Both of them!

Because Kannan was beset upon by three naga, so she was on her own.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth choked, retching water as she dragged Kannan’s body out of the water.  She had one of his arms thrown across her neck and took them both down when she slipped in the sand.  She struggled up to her knees and banged her fist against his back, grateful when he started coughing.  Gently she tipped his head to the side while he coughed up copious amounts of water.

Moonlight fell over Azsuna in fits and starts, obscured by clouds that had moved in while she and Kannan had been fighting for their lives underwater.  Tanyth only felt slightly- very- betrayed that the Nightwatchers they had rescued had taken off, leaving her and Kannan against a host of naga.  It had only been the arrogance of the leader- “If you can make it past the minions, you might be a challenge!”- that had kept them from having to fight three brutes, six naga- four being spell casters; frost spells underwater were a whole new level of miserable- and the leader at the same time.

The leader wasn’t sneering arrogantly anymore, though.  His shit-talk while they had been battling her minions had made her _unbelievably_ irritated, hence the joy she had taken in cutting off his damn head, once she had gotten Kannan to the surface, floating safely in a priest bubble while she collected their evidence.  She had jammed the head of Zarithos-or-whatever onto Kannan’s spear and strapped the spear onto his back, so they had achieved their objective.  Of course, she couldn’t recall the spear as she wasn’t Kannan, so she had to carry the weapon and the ugly head as well as her companion.

They were damn lucky the murlocs had been scared off by the battle.  You know.  Since none of the fucking Nightwatchers stayed to help!  Tanyth didn’t even want to think about how terrible it would have been had she been attacked while trying collect dead-arrogant-douchnaga’s head.

“You’re such an asshole.”  Tanyth informed Kannan wearily after popping a strength elixir, struggling up to her feet- covered in sand and debris from her fall- and dragging his coughing, hacking form half onto her back.  _‘I think it’s called a fireman’s carry.’_   She thought through her exhausted haze as she followed the broken trail through sand, shallower pools of water, and other muck to the curved, moss covered stairs that led back up to where they had met the Nightwatcher.

Even with the temporary shot of stamina and adrenaline she was exhausted.  Barely able to put on foot in front of the other.  She pointedly ignored the lingering ghosts, not even bothering to ask them for help after how the Nightwatchers had fled like _cowards_.

Tanyth grimaced as Kannan kept coughing up water onto her and forced herself to keep moving.

“What a damn day, man.”  She bitched out loud, mostly to keep herself awake and alert.  She needed to put some distance between them and the threats before she could treat him.  “Withered.  Dragons.  Ghost elves.  Murlocs.  Naga.”

She made it to a landing and glanced around, pleased that it was mostly intact.  She eased Kannan down next to a wall- kicking at his spear so he could slouch somewhat comfortably- and grimaced, popping a healing draught, a curing potion- supposedly good for eradicating up to four poisons- and gently coaxing the potions down the groggy and disoriented Kannan’s throat.   Then, because she was a worrywart, she mustered her strength and checked him over with the Light, directing the brilliant splash of color to check over Kannan’s lungs.

“I’m fine.”  He rasped after a couple minutes of eerie silence between them- the creatures of Azsuna seeming hellbent on making every sound they made seem ominous- grabbing a ahold of her wrists and gently moving her hands away from him.  “We get the bastard?”

Tanyth let her bright healing spell fizzle out and she sat back on her haunches with a strangled sob, pressing her hands up to her mouth.  “I thought- Kannan you almost _died_!  What were you thinking?”

Now that she wasn’t wholly focused on getting them to safety so she could treat her companion, she felt all the fear, fatigue, and terror crash down onto her.  Noticing she was shivering, she wrapped her arms around her drenched-as-a-mermaid self and glared at the asshole.

“It’s not funny- don’t smile!”  Tanyth snapped at him, angrily swiping at tears as she glowered at Kannan- who looked about as sodden and bedraggled as she felt.  “What were you _thinking_?  Jumping in front of his spell like that!  I almost had a heart attack!”

Kannan gave a short laugh and looked up at her, letting his head loll back against the curve of the retaining wall as he stared up at her through stark, white lashes.  “I was thinking that I could survive that hit and you couldn’t.  _Idiot_.”

Tanyth smacked him on the arm and wrapped her arms around herself again when a violent shiver ripped through her.  “Asshole!  What if I hadn’t got my shield up in time?  What if you had bled out before I managed to Light-patch you?  What if I hadn’t got us to shore?  What if I-“

“What if, what was.  You did, did, and did again.  End of story.”  Kannan leaned forward and spat out some water.  “Come on.  We need to change clothes before we freeze to death.”

Tanyth made an inarticulate noise of rage and threw some…moss at him.  “I _hate_ you.”  She informed him petulantly, tears dripping off her chin pathetically.  She swiped at her nose and glared when Kannan merely levered himself upright and offered her a hand up.  “You’re such a _jerk_!”

“Of course I am.”  Kannan assured her patronizingly as he pulled her to her feet.

Tanyth narrowed her eyes at him and spun around to kick him in the shin before she stuck her nose in the air, turned her back on him, and stalked up the stairs.  “You’re an _asshole_!”  She called over her shoulder, the statement coming much wobblier than she had intended.  Fumbling with her potion’s belt, she tipped back a healing potion and lesser curing potion of her own.

There were two more segments and three more landings before they reached the top, and by then the two were both shivering fairly regularly.  The road took them up near the ruined palace’s courtyard, but Tanyth and Kannan ignored it and made a beeline across the broken grounds to where they left their bags.

Kannan tossed his spear near the Nightwatcher woman’s feet and they utterly ignored her while they changed into dry clothes.

**\--XXX---**

“That’s him, behind me.”  Their Nightwatcher escort- Idri- informed them blandly the next morning, her back to the interior of the ruined palace.

They had set up camp after changing into dry clothes the night before, figuring they should greet the Prince properly, ghost or not.  Near the Nightwatcher’s post was a tilted, pavilion looking thing that they took shelter in for the night.  I was high up- needing stairs to get there- and covered for all that it only held slim pillars.  They cleaned their armor and laid it out to dry, sleeping in shifts.  That morning they had washed up a bit in a nearby impromptu lake- freshwater, thankfully- and ate some of their packed rations before asking Idri to take them to see the Prince.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed that the palace had once been a series of interconnected buildings instead of just one.  Idri led them to the ‘main’ building, which had no doors and seemed to be made out of the traditional ancient mix of stone, earth, and wood.   It gave the stone a seamless appearance, with delicate- impossible- patterns.  There were two curved, ancient staircases that led up to an overlook, where an elf ghost with golden eyes looked down at them curiously. 

On their way up the stairs they heard many snide comments about the Prince from the attending ghost elves.  Some were in side rooms that spidered off from the entrance hall, others were just milling about aimlessly.  One ghost commented that they hoped Kannan and Tanyth were assassins, there to murder their ‘no good’ Prince.

It took every bit of willpower she had to not open up a can of truth and justice on the arrogant jackasses.  Ten thousand years and they still had no idea how brave it had been for Farondis to oppose Azshara?  The Legion?!

The fuck was wrong with the idiots?  Were the demons not a huge gorram clue?!

Tanyth pointedly ignored the mutterings, not feeling the least bit of sympathy for these undead ghosts.  Instead of standing around blaming Farondis for ten thousand years maybe they should have done some research or something- anything- other than standing around feeling sorry for themselves.  Honestly these ghosts were moping like jilted sweethearts about the Queen being displeased with them.

Ugh.  This had been a _terrible_ idea.

They rounded the top bend and stood outside the decorative area the golden eyed Prince was standing on.  “ _Prince Farondis?”_   Tanyth politely inquired, her accent thick and her words flat despite her practicing with Kannan during breakfast and the walk over.

Kannan had pointedly informed her that she would have to take point, as he would likely be dismissed out of hand.

_“According to the ancient texts, the Highborne-come-High Elves shrank in stature over the centuries between the Well’s destruction and the founding of Quel’Thalas.  So it will be obvious that I am, at the very least, a lowborn elf.”  Kannan grinned at Tanyth’s stormy expression.  “Highborne were bad enough to their own people, a possible mixed race or bottom-of-the-ladder elf has much less merit than a purely different one.  It wouldn’t seem off for one such as –“  He leaned back away from Tanyth’s half-hearted swat.  “-to be in the service of someone like you.” Kannan gave her a cheeky grin from across the campire.  “Like it or not, Tan, you give off the aura of a Lady.  Someone to be respected.”_

_Tanyth, well aware that she was a fatherless daughter who regularly tripped over thin air, raised an eyebrow and hummed noncommittally.  “Whatever helps you sleep at night jerk.”_

But, best to not get distracted while addressing ancient Highborne royalty.  So between a few guiding comments and information provided by Kelo’reem that had hammered out a reasonable story.

_“Yes?”_   The elf replied, seeming confused if pleasantly surprised.  He had white hair and rather bushy white eyebrows that stood out rather starkly against his red-tinted skin.  _“You came to speak….with me?”_

_“Yes!”_   Tanyth beamed at the bewildered ghost as she gave him a light curtesy out of reflex.  _“We came to ask if you would be amendable to- uhm.”_   Tanyth gave Kannan a panicked glance, finding herself tripping over her words.  She tended to- at least think- a lot of slang terms and idiomatic phrases, which weren’t doing her any favors in trying to be diplomatic in an unfamiliar language.

_“Forgive my companion’s difficulty in speaking.”_   Kannan cut in smoothly, stepping forward to stand beside Tanyth.  _“We were gifted knowledge of the dialect by your neighbors as thanks for saving some of their whelplings, but Common and this dialect of Darnassian are a rather jarring transition and she hasn’t had much time to practice.”_

The Prince nodded regally and waved a hand negligently.  _“No harm done.”_

_“Thank you, Highness.”_   Kannan replied for the both of them before getting straight to the point.  _“My Lady Tanyth’s patron is a renowned master of the arcane and skilled researcher.  He greatly desires the opportunity to study the ‘old lands’ as these lands are referred to by most.  Kelo’reem Morningspring assisted the Guardian of Tirisfal in sealing the Temple of Elune, and he mentioned that you might know the location of one of the Pillars of Creation the Guardian used, in order to prove the validity of his claim.  He offers aid in restoring the artifact, as a gesture of goodwill.”_   Kannan gestured to Tanyth before he continued.  “ _We, of course,_ _are willing to prove that our intentions are just, if you would like.  We rescued some of your Nightwatchers and defeated a naga captain yesterday to prove our mettle to Nightwatcher Idri, our escort_.”

Ah.  Well.  Tanyth hadn’t known that.  Made an incredible amount of sense, in hindsight, but it was news to her.

It irritated her to some extent, that Kelo’reem hadn’t let her in on using his knowledge of the Tidestone- and tis present broken state- as a way to ingratiate themselves.   But it would make sense that Kelo’reem would entrust such information to his son, first and foremost.  Just in case.

You don’t get to be the ripe old age of five millennia by being a trusting fool.   And Aegwynn had only used a _shard_ of the Tidestone to help seal away the physical remains of the Avatar of Sargeras inside the ancient Temple of Elune.  Though nowadays the Temple was referred to as the Tomb of Sargeras. 

For obvious reasons.

At any rate, back during the War of the Ancients, Queen Azshara had shattered the Tidestone in retribution against Faronids, once one of Farondis’ own nobles informed the Queen of the Prince of Azsuna’s plan to seal the Well-of-Eternity-turned-Legion-portal with the Titan artifact.

Farondis’ palace had been several leagues away from Zin-Azshari, the Queen’s palace.  And he had not been entirely pleased with the Legion’s arrival, promises of power or no.  Queen Azshara had ambushed Farondis on his way to the Well with the Tidestone and shattered the Tidestone in a terrifying display of arcane prowess, the backlash doing an inordinate amount of damage to Azsuna and cursing the inhabitants to remain as ghosts after death.

“ _The Tidestone._ ”  The Prince commented heavily, glancing rapidly between the two of them while stroking his goatee.  _“It’s been quite some time since we’ve had a champion.  I suppose you will do.”_   He spoke to Tanyth, as if it were a great honor that she would never protest owning.

The arrogance of elves would never _not_ exasperate her, Tanyth was certain

_“When the Guardian came to us she dealt directly with my Captain, Thaldrys.”_ The Prince’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.  _“I understand why she did so, after everything……but, no.  I have run from my failures for too long.  I will lead you to Nar’thalas Academy, the Tidestone’s resting place.  Perhaps if we can repair it I might find a way to lift this curse and regain the respect of my people._ ”

The Prince glanced around, his shoulders dropping a bit when he took in the pure loathing on the faces of his Court. 

Farondis might be arrogant and somewhat patronizing, but Tanyth had never felt the urge to punch so many people in the face since….well, never.  At least Stormwind had a little bit of an excuse.

(Then her common sense pointed out the hypocrisy of that statement- Stormwind’s people had been enthralled with a beautiful, powerful woman who had presented a benevolent front- and Tanyth told her inner voice of reason to shut the hell up.)

_“Well, I am taking my leave, Nightwatchers.  Though I doubt you will miss me.”_   Prince Farondis informed them, snatching up a nearby staff and turning his glowing golden gaze towards Tanyth.  _“With me, champion.”_

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

_“Halt!”_   A ghostly man ordered them, an array of warriors formed loosely around him as they crossed the bridge to the ruined town.  “ _You can’t possibly think that we’ll let you enter!  Not after what happened last time!”_

Farondis, who had endured a rather grueling gauntlet over their two-hour or so walk to the ruins of Nar’thalas, smiled wanly.  _“Thaldrys!  My trusted captain!”_

_“Not anymore!”_   The captain snarled back, his bladed weapon rising higher as his ethereal eyes flared in anger.  _“You betrayed the Queen!  Sundered the lands we called home!  You are not welcome here, butcher!”_

Tanyth had had about _enough_ of this shit.  For the past few hours she had heard nothing but abuse and loathing hurled towards the Prince and she was reaching her limit of tolerance for this sort of shit.  Stormwind was only a handful of months in the past, and while the wounds on her body had long since healed, the damage to her mind and spirit had not.  How was Farondis even still sane?

_“Please, Thaldrys!  Tell me what I must do to make amends!”_   Prince Farondis nearly begged, his hands held forward in a gesture of conciliation.

_“I doubt that there is anything you can do that will fix-“_   The ghost gestured to the ruined utopia around them.  _“-this.  Prince.”_   The last was a sneer, a mocking insult of what should be a respectful title.

The Prince of Azsuna bowed his head in acceptance, clasping his hands as if in prayer as he bowed properly.  “ _As you say.”_   He murmured softly before he straightened and gestured to Tanyth.  _“This is my champion.  She seeks to unite the shards of the Tidestone to bring a contemporary of the Guardian to Azsuna.  Please, old friend, if you do not hold any value in my words then test her mettle yourself.  This…Kelo’reem is a renowned researcher and, at the very least, might consider studying the curse that keeps us bound as ghosts.”_

_“Hm.”_   The guard- Thaldrys- grunted, sheathing his weapon and crossing his arms, visibly sizing Tanyth up.  “ _I suppose a recommendation from the Prince- no matter his reputation- requires me to test you.”_

Kannan’s stare of, ‘ _hoe, don’t do it!_ ’ was a nearly physical weight against her back.  It was about the only thing that kept Tanyth’s temper from shattering.

That and her lack of being able to bitch out these people in their native dialect.  No sense losing her damn mind if she couldn’t be understood!

_“I will see your tasks through.”_   Tanyth replied pleasantly, instead of anything she actually wanted to say.  _“With the aid of my friend, of course.”_ Just so these people might get the hint that the blatant, judging stares they were subjecting Kannan to were a Bad Idea.

_“I see.”_   Thaldrys answered, his silvery gaze narrowed as he tried to stare her down.

Tanyth, fed up and ready for lunch, glared back.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

“This is stupid.”  Tanyth hissed to Kannan as they walked around the ruins of Nar’Thalas killing murlocs, the occasional naga or naga brute, and gathering up sodden animated arcane tomes.

“Highborne.”  Kannan corrected, shaking a weakly fluttering book at her mockingly.  “I’m surprised it has been this smooth, really.  My father’s kin weren’t known for their inclusion and diversity.”

“Unless you count strains of arrogance and delusions of grandeur.”  Tanyth bitched, hopping over some rubble to dig out another book.  “They’re had ten thousand gorram years to gather these books, why are they sending us to do it anyways?”

Kannan knelt in front of her, cupped her face and very clearly enunciated.  “Hi-gh-bo-rne.”

Tanyth gave him a droll glare, batted his hands away and went back to her bitching. While also doing her best to ignore the stupidly superficial crush she had somehow recently developed on her only friend.

Well, to be fair it was almost fall, which meant she was closer to fourteen than thirteen.  Uh, sort of.  So she was well within the age range for stupidly timed, inconvenient crushes.  Blowing out an exasperated breath Tanyth checked the position of the sun outside of the ruined building’s doorless entryway and groaned.  “We’re going to have to head back soon.”

Which meant there would be at least another day of looking for lost tomes in her future.

_Outstanding_.

“Well, we’re up to forty-seven with these two.”  Kannan commented, rising from his crouch and stretching languidly.  “So we only need three more.”

“What’s the damn difference between the tomes we’re rescuing and the others anyways.”  Tanyth asked sourly, tugging at the weakly flapping book trapped under what looked like the zillionth statue of Azshara.

There were a creepy amount of them.  Tanyth might or might not have taken to practicing her fledgling frost magic on them.  Mostly to try and shatter them by all manner of blunt force objects.  Like pillars.  And rocks.  And Kannan.

“The ones that are animate take more skill to find.”  Kannan replied, leaned up against a curve in the wall as he watched her work.  The days in Azsuna were temperate and breezy, but some rain have been blowing in or something because it was actually fairly chilly, despite it being a few hours to sunset.  “They are generally older or hold more valuable information, as they were specifically enchanted to stay out of the hands of those who weren’t ready to use their knowledge.  The Kirin Tor and even my old man’s library are much the same.”

“So some arcane books have a limited amount of self-governance.”  Tanyth asked, wriggling the book free and letting it flutter happily free for a moment before she stowed it away in her original backpack.

“To some extent.  They respond more to power than character.”  Kannan told her, laughing at her disgruntled expression.  “Come on.”  He said, offering her a hand up, which she gratefully took.

Fairly limber or not, spending days crouched in weird positions to find ancient books made her sore.

“If we push it we can finish this up tonight and then be fresh to brave the ruins of the Academy tomorrow.”  Kannan finished as he fell into step with her.  “Given how addled some of these ghosts are, I don’t think getting into the sealed Tidestone chamber is going to be a simple in-and-out thing.”

“Doubtful.”  Tanyth agreed as they made their way across the sundered city’s center and up a set of curved stairs to yet another grand building’s carcass.  “But it is what it is, I guess.  We manage to get the Tidestone and Prince Farondis will allow your father to move his estate to Azsuna without causing any trouble.  I mean-“  A purple sheen caught her eye and she swiftly changed direction, swinging up onto a ledge to compensate for some broken stairs and then skirting around the crumbling ledge- circles were a theme in kaldorei ruins, she had found- to what looked like a ruined bookshelf. 

Ah-ha!

_‘Come to mama you stupid book!’_   She thought with vaguely maniacal glee when she caught sight of a properly animated book in the ruined silt.  Pitching her voice a bit louder, she continued.  “It ought to make him happy.  Having ancient elves to learn from.”

“Yeah.”  Kannan’s voice was distorted, echoey.  “And it will keep the elves of Azsuna from attacking the estate, which will be a definite benefit.’

“Still.”  Tanyth grunted,  jamming a fallen piece of decorative strut over a sizable rock and then throwing herself on the end in the air for leverage.  “I don’t want to- _fuck_ that hurt!- don’t want to have to do this again.  This is really annoying.”  She glared at a nearby cluster of ghosts that were watching her apathetically.  ‘Really fucking annoying.”

“Noted and seconded.”  Kannan replied from down below.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth’s first thought was ‘wow, she’s pretty’. 

The person hovering over her- slipping what looked to be a healing potion phial away- had grey eyes and a pretty tattoo of some sort that- well, it looked a lot like Kannan’s arcane script thingy, really.  Only it was done in blues and golds in what appeared to be calligraphy of some sort.  It snaked down from her eyebrow, sprawled across her left eyelid and temple, and then curled back around the underside of her eye, ending with a flourish near her tear duct.  The woman’s hair was bound in a crown braid- anchored by a golden headpiece- highlights of caramel and lighter blonde threaded through it with a thick plank of shock-white originating near the right temple.

The armor the person wore was reminiscent of Tanyth’s own- eerily reminiscent, actually, if done in golden, cream, and navy blues rather than her current color scheme of crimson and golds. 

And was that Solaria’s hilt peeking over her shoulder?  Actually now that she thought about it-

“Well, that’s amusing.”  A very, eerily familiar voice commented wryly.

Tanyth squinted through the incessant pounding inside her head- it felt like the Muppets were having a rehearsal in there- and then blinked in consternation.  “What.  The.  Fuck?”

A giggle came from the side and Tanyth lolled her head to the side to find the- oh.

“Chromie?  Of the Bronze Dragonflight?”  Tanyth commented rather flatly once she took in the golden-haired gnome’s appearance. 

Dressed in white robes edged in gold, with twin buns on either side of her blonde head, it was rather to mistake the dragon-disguised-as-a-gnome when one looked into her eyes.  Chromie’s eyes were the color of golden sands, the colors shifting as if they were in constant motion.

“Chronormu of the Bronze Dragonflight, at your service!”  The little gnome chirped with a grin, rocking back onto her heels.  “You can call me Chromie, though!  I’m comfortable with such familiarity!”

The Bronze Dragonflight were the watchers of the Timeways.  Which explained Tanyth’s suspicion of the person she had somewhat stupidly called ‘pretty’ being herself.  Just from a different time.  Future, if the filled out curves and height were any indication.

“Nice to meet you, Chromie.  I’m Tanyth.”  Tanyth replied, finally noticing that she seemed to be just outside a metal cage of some sort, inside a cave that also held a mildly interested sea giant and several dead naga forces.

Sea giants were huge, hulking mases of muscle.  With loincloths made of reef materials and various seashells and other sea animals as decoration.  Tanyth remembered that the Titans had created them to look after the original Pangea-continent of Kalimdor.  Gentle, patient, and able to walk the seas like they were on dry land, they were among the many Titan races to fall to corruption.

“Ah!  This must have been the first time we met, Tany!”  Chromie chirped to the person who had silently freed Tanyth’s hands of some seaweed-inspired metal-feeling shackles while she’d been distracted.  “I must have forgot!”

Older-Tanyth smiled at the gnome before returning her gray gaze to Tanyth-the-younger.  “I bet your head hurts like hell and you’re having trouble stringing two thoughts together, huh little-me?”

“Yep.”  Younger-Tanyth drawled, feeling entirely confused.  And sore.  And hungry.  And _really_ thirsty.

Older-Tanyth huffed a soft laugh and handed over a waterskin, which younger-Tanyth guzzled down greedily.  It was a sweet berry juice of some sort; thicker than melon juice and somewhat filling as well as refreshing.

Handing the flask back- it had to be enchanted, because she had guzzled down quite a bit- younger-Tanyth tried to pull herself together.  “I remember- well.  The Academy.  Doing a bunch of little tasks.  _Bullshit_ tasks.  Being attacked by the headmistress for asking to be let into the Tidestone vault.   Killing the headmistress, or at least until she regenerated from the curse.  Getting the key to the Tidestone’s vault.  Gathering the shards and then- oh.  What the _hell_?  We were attacked by naga!”

“Queen Azshara managed to her her…fins?  Multiple snake hands?- on some Bronze Dragonflight…ehhh, I’d better not say.”  Chromie admitted, tapping a well-manicured finger to her lip thoughtfully.  “At any rate she used, uh, well- Tidemistress Athissa and a few other naga are out of their proper time.  To try and steal the Tidestone before it was protected.  Sent back an echo of herself to taunt Prince Farondis, too!  That’s where future-you and I come in!”

“Okay.”  Younger-Tanyth replied, trying to chew on that information a bit.  She wasn’t quite up to her usual level of following along with shenanigans at the moment.

In the lore, Prince Farondis encountered a projection of Queen Azshara when rescuing his ‘champion’ who was taken prisoner by Tidemistress Athissa after gaining entry to the Tidestone vault at the Nar’Thalas Academy. 

_When Farondis arrived at the cave the naga had taken his champion to, the projection of Queen Azshara showed up.  First in her naga form before shifting into her night Elf form when he didn’t recognize her._

_“I’m giving you the chance to kneel before me princeling.  And maybe something can be done about that…..little curse.”  Queen Azshara crooned at the shocked Prince of Azsuna._

_“To life this curse.  To free my people and redeem my legacy.”  Prince Farondis considered, glancing at the queen and the cave behind her before shifting his golden gaze back to the Queen._

_Queen Azshara’s lips curled into a wicked, satisfied smile._

_“The people of Azsuna are, and always have been, too proud to kneel before your demonic allies, witch!”  The Prince proclaimed boldly, having made his choice.  “We will never-“  He shot a tightly controlled burst of fire at the woman’s snarling visage.  “-kneel-“  Prince Farondis shaped massive boulders of molten fire and launched them towards his former Queen, anger in every line of his form.  “-before you!”  A trio of flaming rocks rained down on the Queen’s projection._

_The projection, which had been knocked down twice, laughed cruelly and sneered.  “My wrath is coming.”  She warned him ominously before disappearing in a crackle of arcane power._

Afterwards Prince Farondis’ people had rallied to him in order to defeat Tidemistress Athissa, who had stayed back to cover the retreat of her underling, Warlord Parjesh, who disappeared through a portal to a set of broken, mostly sunken lands called the ‘Eye of Azshara’.

It had been a dungeon- an instance- in the game.  One where the reassembled Tidestone had been implanted into one of Azshara’s handmaidens, turning them into a destructive force of nature- a loosely held together storm of raging winds and unforgiving tides.  With arcane bombs. 

Because a skyscraper tall chaotic force of nature was just _so_ last expansion.

“Don’t worry.” Older-Tanyth assured herself.  “We’re not far behind the Warlord and Azshara is vain enough to use her past-self to reassemble the pieces and wipe Azsuna off the map for Farondis’ second refusal of her.  It’s not because of your-our actions, really.  Just this is the only time the Tidestone wasn’t behind strong, nearly impenetrable wards.  Thus being a window of opportunity for our enemies.”

“Not to mention a chance for them to destroy the place the Tidestone’s being kept safe in the present!”  Chromie butted in cheerfully.  “I tell you, never a dull moment, guarding the Timeways.”  Chromie smiled at younger-Tanyth.  “But you’re different, Tany!  You’re- well.  You’re allowed.  It’s not meddling if it’s just a person living their lives, you know!”

“Exactly.  So the Tidestone will be whole soon enough and the Wrath sent to the Eye of Azshara send Azsuna to the depths.”  Older-Tanyth grinned brightly.  ‘That’s why we’re here.”

“If Azshara has access to time travel, why wouldn’t she come herself?”  Tanyth asked somewhat plaintively.  “Or just have her minions tell her everything that happens between now and then so she can have a whole bunch of foreknowledge?  You know, counter moves before they’re made?”

Chromie let out an unimpressed rush of air and crossed her arms huffily.  “The Timewardens watch over the Timeways, you know!”  The little gnome planted her hands on her hips and continued her lecture.  “Even though she managed to slip Tidemistress Athissa and Warlord Parjesh back in time to do this _one_ task, the Bronze Dragonflight’s mastery of the Timeways means- well.”  Chromie tapped her lips with a thoughtful finger and considered her words carefully.  “Azshara is powerful, of that we’ve no doubt.  But using blunt force to punch a hole in the Timeways to compensate for trying to use a Bronze Dragonflight artifact without a Bronze dragon- it’s _noticeable_.  And that means that the Timewardens- like me!- are closely monitoring the situation.”

“That’s why we came back to help, little-me.”  Older-Tanyth assured her younger counterpart firmly.  “Tidemistress Athissa and Parjesh are chumps, but the Bronze decided that destroying the Wrath of Azshara here in the past- well, my past; your present- was the best fix for the timeline as a whole.  And the Wrath of Azshara is no simple opponent.  At least, not according to Kelo’reem’s achives.”

Younger-Tanyth scooted over- away from the highly unpleasant mass of barbs that were the walls of the cage she had been held in- and leaned against the wall of the cave itself.  “Time travel is _confusing_.”  She complained.

Chromie giggled and spread her hands out wide to emphasize her next statement.  “That’s why people should leave time travel to the Bronze Dragonflight!”

Older-Tanyth made a choked sound, but said nothing.

“You- uh, older-me- and Chromie?”  Younger-Tanyth asked, somewhat warily.  Then she realized she hadn’t seen Kannan since she woke up.  “Kannan!”  She shouted, rolling to her feet and looking around worriedly.

“He was taken by Parjesh while we were dealing with Athissa but we’ll get him back, no worries.”  Older-Tanyth soothed, holding her hands up in the universal expression of surrender.

Younger-Tanyth scowled and started preparing herself to stand up.  She had apparently been tied up pretty tightly because the pins-and-needles sensations were killing her.

Older-Tanyth reached out and caught her younger counterpart by the shoulders.  “Listen, little me.”  She said seriously, holding younger-Tanyth’s gaze seriously.  “Some of our party you know and others you don’t know yet.”  Older-Tanyth gave littler-Tanyth a firm look.  “You’re what?  Just a few months out of Stormwind at this point?”

“Yeah.”  Younger-Tanyth drawled, slowly getting to her feet and scowling a bit when she noticed that older-Tanyth wasn’t all that much taller than her.  “About three months to the day.  Why?”

Older-Tanyth grimaced and crossed her arms, wisps of loose hairs falling loosely around her golden headgear.  “Look, girlfriend.  A _lot_ happens between Stormwind and…well.”  Older-Tanyth huffed and propped a hand on her hip while using the other to gesticulate.  “It’s difficult to explain.  We’re….”  A wry expression passed over older-Tanyth’s face, twisting her lips into a sardonic grin before she smiled wistfully at her younger self.  “We’re not quite as irrelevant as I- _we_ thought.”

Something cold dropped into Tanyth’s stomach and she hugged herself to hide her discomfort.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  Older-Tanyth replied, that same sad smile on her face.  “It- just remember that hate is the easy way out, yeah?”  Something bitter lingered in the too-familiar gray eyes of her older compatriot and it caused the icy knot in younger-Tanyth’s stomach to plummet.

“Ok.”  Younger-Tanyth replied, the words barely managing to force themselves out of her suddenly dry throat.  “I will.”

Older-Tanyth smiled, the darkness behind her eyes receding as she bounced on her toes and Solaria’s hilt glittered in the light falling across the floor of the cave from the entrance.  “Awesome!  Let’s roll!”

Tanyth followed after her older counterpart, stepping out into the bright sunshine and blinking away spots in his vision afterwards.

Once her vision cleared though-

“Calm, little me.”  A gauntleted hand came down on her shoulder, causing Tanyth to look up at her older counterpart with a sense of betrayal.  “Remember what I said.”  She murmured in a lower voice as they came closer to the loitering group.

A man with rich chocolate colored hair and mossy green eyes noticed them first.  “Ah, Commander [unintelligible].  Everything alright?”

“What the hell?”  Younger-Tanyth asked, looking between the man and her older counterpart warily.  “What was that gibberish?”

“Ah, sorry!”  Chromie piped up from the other side of older-Tanyth.  “That would be the work of my fellow Timewardens preserving the timeline.  It might happen a lot.”  Chromie tapped her lips thoughtfully.  “Actually we should just go by nicknames from here on in or there’s going to be a lot of that.”

One of the elves- looked like a High Elf, but Tanyth was no expert- raised an eyebrow.  “Very well, Timewarden.”  The woman- clad in blue and wielding an elegant staff brimming with arcane power- smiled at younger Tanyth.  “You may call me Maddie.”

“You know who I am.”  A woman draped in black, shimmering fabrics that covered everything but her lower arms from view stated evenly.  “You may refer to me however you wish.”  Her molten orange eyes glowed in the shadows beneath her hood, and even through the dark fabric that covered her face Tanyth could see the curve of the woman’s smile.

Tanyth’s hands involuntarily clenched into fists.  Her teeth groaned from the force she used to keep her jaw clamped firmly shut to prevent herself from exploding out into a thousand scathing questions.

The covered head nodded lightly in her direction and black nails glinted against the dark metal of the star-topped staff.

“Yo.”  Older-Kannan greeted lazily, waving two fingers at her in a lazy salute.  Older-Kannan smiled down at her, his bright eyes full of fondness and good humor.  His armor was a mix of cloth and leather, all in reds.  His white hair was pulled into a high tail at the back and he was holding a particularly intricate goldenwood bow that radiated power- the Light and the arcane.  His arcane script was also changed- it spiraled across his cheekbone and over his nose; blues and purples threaded with gold.   “I had forgotten how cute you used to be, mini-Tanyth.”

“ _He’s_ still an asshole.”  Older-Tanyth sing-songed brightly, grinning at older-Kannan’s pouty expression.

Tanyth was gathering some subtext there that made her slightly uncomfortable.

“Self-sacrificing idiot?”  The man with the moss green eyes offered dryly, earning a bark of laughter from older-Kannan.  The man was outfitted in typical Paladin gear- silver armor edged in gold with a tabard with a silver fist over the front.  His hair was tied at the base of the neck and trailed across his left shoulder. 

 “Well, no time like the present.”  Chromie trilled brightly.  “We’ve got baddies to see to!  Move it people!”  Chromie made for the swirling light blue portal across the shallows, directly opposite a ruined outdoor theatre and the spectral forms of Azsuna elves.  “Older Tanyth is Tany and younger Tanyth is Tanyth!  Now let’s get movin’!  Or I’m gonna be late!”

**\--XXX---**

The portal dumped them on a ruined section of land far enough away from Azsuna that Tanyth could see the screaming wall of winds and water that was the Maelstrom.  They portal’ed onto a sandy high ground, filled with turtles and angry naga.  This far out the air was fairly clear of beach smells- such as rotted fish- but the winds were rather persistent and cutting.  Somehow the winds made the broken little section of land warmer instead of cooler.

Straight ahead, at the end of the slope, was a large, horseshoe-shaped area where a large naga was laughing at people inside cages that were made of the same wicked-looking metal as her cage in the cave had been.  Beyond the sand embankments was a massive, wide shield of dark purple arcane power.

Where the Wrath of Azshara should be.

But Tanyth-the-younger didn’t have much time to gawk.

“Stay back and keep us healed up, ‘kay little me?”  Older-Tanyth ordered before nodding to the Self-Sacrificing Idiot, who went charging towards the heart of a group of naga, sword raised high and yelling some sort of battlecry.

Tanyth-the-younger didn’t even have time to scream that she didn’t know any healing spells before her older self hurled herself into battle, Solaria’s blade dancing brightly under the midday light.

Younger-Tanyth called Solaria and kept her Consecration up, circling around some crude battlements and stabbing a naga caster in the back.  The caster went down and Tanyth took that opportunity to cut the head off the snake. 

Or she tried to.

Fledgling battle senses flaring, she tugged Solaria free as she rolled to the side, a massive mace crashing down into the space she inhabited just seconds prior.

On the bright side, the caster was dead.  But now she had an angry, slippery naga melee type chasing her.  She dove left, the mace crashing into the crude battlements she had skirted just a few minutes earlier.  Tanyth renewed her Consecration spell as she made a strategic retreat towards the other fighters, trying to keep herself mostly out of the way of naga-dude’s mace.

This set of naga were definitely much tougher than the ones they had been fighting in Nar’Thalas!

The mace impacted Dorah, Tanyth having called her shield to her arm with barely a heartbeat to spare.  However, while Dorah successfully blocked the blow from killing her, the blow still made her bones rattle and she barely managed to keep her footing in the frost-spell-tipped grass.  The next blow made her scream despite her best efforts, confirming her hazy suspicions that she had broken her arm.

Tanyth set her jaw defiantly and recklessly surged forward, ducking under the next blow from her opponent and slamming, full-force into the naga.  Just before they collided, Tanyth slipped in a pile of ooze- naga blood, she later realized- and veered off to the side.  The naga overbalanced, pitching forward without her expected weight there to arrest his momentum.  Tanyth rolled over, landing on her shield arm.  She grit her teeth, tasting copper in her mouth, as she tried to press her advantage.

The naga recovered first.

Tanyth got her feet under herself in just the nick of time to backflip- she couldn’t believe she managed it and it was sloppy as hell- away, landing hard on her knees.  She could feel blood trailing from her lips and she wanted to scream in frustration.

The naga advanced on her, wickedly spied mace stained with blood and an unfriendly, too-wide smile on its face.  “Die, landwalker!”  It roared angrily as it swung its mac up in an arc.

Tanyth _moved_.  Without thought, without consideration and partially due to the arcane frost on that particular piece of ground.  She flowed around the blow and flipped Solaria, holding her sword in a reverse grip.  As soon as she slipped level with the naga she shifted her weight, pivoting and driving Solaria’s curved edge into the cretin’s back.

When she looked up she noticed a naga caster had circled around and was aiming an unstable looking arcane spell at the High Elf’s- Maddie’s- back.

Tanyth was too far away.  Too far away and wounded and standing on a sodden piece of arcane-frost glass that was so cold she feared frostbite despite her armor and she wouldn’t-she couldn’t-

Without taking her eyes off the opponents in front of her, the Maddie negligently waved her staff and the magic that had been building between the naga’s palms detonated, sending the naga flying backwards into a thick tropical tree.

Tanyth pushed herself of the patch of frost and scrambled to her feet as best as she could, hurrying towards the group.  When she got somewhere near-ish, she tossed out her Consecration spell whenever it began to fade and took stock of her injuries, watching for ambushers.

The battle didn’t last much longer, with the group from the future being victorious.  Tanyth kept her Consecration up, but that was about it.

“I _told_ you to _stay back_ and _heal_!”  Older-Tanyth yelled heatedly, splattered in ooze-blood and a dash of red blood.  “Why didn’t you-“

“I don’t _know_ any _healing spells_ , you moron!”  Younger-Tanyth snarled back, her broken arm aching something fierce.  Winds battered her blonde-copper-brown hair into her eyes, the strands being tugged out of the halfhearted braid she had done them up in after she was freed.  Her whole body burned with varying stages of discomfort and she could barely feel her calves, as cold as they were.  “I can Shield, Fortitude, toss out a Consecration, and Purify but that’s _it_!  You, of all people, should _fucking_ know that!”

Older-Tanyth halted, mid-angry-march, and closed her eyes for a long moment.  “Right.  Fuck.” Gray eyes fluttered open and she gave younger-Tanyth a strained smile.  “Sorry, kiddo.  You lose some of the finer points after a [unintelligible]- _really_ Chromie?”

“Sorry.  That’s the way it goes.”  The little gnome shrugged unconcernedly.  “The Timewardens censor anything that could threaten the timeline.”

Older-Tanyth made a noise of frustration and younger-Tanyth just wanted to curl up and cry. She hadn’t asked for any of this!  Her head was still pounding, her arms as throbbing, and she felt like she was never going to be _good enough_.   Despite all she and Kannan had accomplished since they came to Azsuna, these naga were almost too much for her.

_Were_ too much for her.  In the time it took her to take out two of them, the others had taken out at least four.  And _her_ Kannan wasn’t in sight!  Not in any of the bramble, seaweed metal cages that littered the broken bit of land in front of the fighting pit, where the Warlord was taunting them from.

Younger-Tanyth grit her teeth and glared up at her older counterpart through teary eyes.  “My apologies, _Commander_.”  The title was coated in sarcasm, the syllables ripped from her chest through a miasma of anger.  “But I suggest we move forward.  The Warlord grows impatient.”  Tanyth-the-younger set her chin and walked past herself, shoulders thrown back insolently and most definitely not crying tears of embarrassed helplessness.

“Always have said that you’re your own worst enemy, Tan.”  Older-Kannan murmured, just loud enough for younger Tanyth to hear.

**\--XXX---**

Warlord Parjesh was annoying, as he had a penchant for throwing spears and those spears hurt like hell.

From what Tanyth could hear anyways.  She was huddled outside the walls. On older’s orders.

Tanyth- the present Tanyth- huddled outside the arena for that fight, setting her arm and downing a few healing draughts.  The draughts wouldn’t heal her arm, but would help set the bone.  She used a few handy pieces of wood- spear handles- to make herself a splint and then fitted Dorah over her makeshift patch job.

A little internal application of the Light and her arm was serviceable, if not whole.

Not a moment too soon, either.  Down the sandy, broken pathway were several clusters of casters.  At first they had been entirely unconcerned with the fight with Parjesh, but as the fight wore on they started to get….well, annoyed.  Not worried.  _Irritated_.  Towards that end a pair of spellcasters peeled away from the mass of serpentine bodies and arcing, violent threads of the arcane to- presumably- come and join Parjesh. 

Tanyth intercepted them, keeping them at a distance with Consecration- she had never wished she knew Smite quite as badly as she did at that moment- and ended up pissing off one of the ambling turtles for her efforts

Before Tanyth’s situation became too tenuous the group caught up to her. They made easy work of the two spellcasters and half-beaten turtle before charging down the path towards the naga spellcasters that were channeling some sort of powerful spell, minions and arcane…oozes?  Globs?  Gathered around them.

Tanyth-the-younger sat that fight out as well.  Well, series of fights.  There were five clusters of spellcasters.  And then a giant snail of some sort.

Victory assured the group regrouped near Tanyth’s Boulder of Protection and regrouped for a moment. 

The small fry taken care of, they now needed to deal with a massive naga- at least as tall as the average storefront back in Stormwind- channeling a massive amount of arcane power towards a shield that obscured the view of a small cove, behind the Warlord’s slave pens.  The hulking beast- it had, like, six arms and snakes-for-hair- had been entirely apathetic while watching older’s group slaughter its brethren.

Actually it laughed- high pitched and cruel- and sneered condescendingly as its compatriots died.  At the moment it was taunting the resting group of fighters, insinuating- heavily- that they should enjoy their final moments before it crushed them like vermin.

“See anything that would make shoving a sword through Ugly’s gullet a bad idea Maddie?”  Older-Tanyth asked, wiping her hand across her mouth after taking a long pull from her waterskin.

“Just arcane disturbances.  However-“  The elf grimaced and settled back down behind the meager shelter the rocks provided.  “-given that the skies are slowly clouding over and going grey, I would assume that the Wrath is either here or nearly here.  We need to move quickly.  If it reaches maturity….”  Maddie and older exchanged a grim look.  “We need to disrupt the runestones holding the barrier protecting the Wrath.  Given what I can see, it’s a standard three-anchor arcane ward.  Simple but incredibly powerful.  The massive naga is standing on one such runestone, there is another near the wormling, and then one across the bay, on the rise.”

Older-Kannan whistled, impressed.  “ _Damn_.  Azshara works fast.”

“Let’s not praise the enemy, ok?”  Older-Tanyth grumbled, settling onto her knees and looking directly at her younger counterpart.  “Sorry, kiddo.  I know this is frustrating and uncomfortable, but-“

“Save it.”  Younger-Tanyth replied, tone strained.  “We’ve got bigger issues than….whatever the hell this shit is.”  She pushed herself to her feet, narrowing her gaze at the naga.  “Are we killing Ugly or Uglier first?”  Younger asked, referring to the looming, flailing worm sticking up from one of the holes in the shoals, around and north of Ugly.

Older-Tanyth sighed heavily and stood, brushing sand off her armor and glancing between the spellcaster and the gigantic worm swaying in the distance.  “Uglier, I think.  If we are careful we can circle around the wreckage to the north and get the worm before doubling back to the spellcaster.”  Older-Tanyth shot her younger counterpart a weak grin.  “At least with naga we can use their arrogance to our advantage.  They like grand speeches and to watch their underlings die off while they gloat.  Normal beasties?  Not so much.”

**\--XXX---**

The storm that Maddie had noticed grew worse the winds more violent and the waves more devastating- as they cleared the way to the Wrath.

The opted to murder the ridiculously tall worm first, as it seemed to be agitating the winds.  Somehow.

The worm guardian spewed green acid that ate through _everything_ \- Dorah took some damage from one such spewing, and more than a few places in Tanyth’s armor now needed repaired, but her skin was mostly spared- and liked to split itself.  The runestone holding its sections of the wards had glowed poison green until the black robed woman had melted it into slag.

Spellcaster naga- _“I am Lady Hatecoil!  Of the noble line of Hatecoil!  We are favored by the Queen Herself!”_ — liked to toss around lightning and wind attacks, requiring use of the sand dunes to remain uncrispified.  When she fell Maddie rushed in and destroyed the massive sandstone runestone the naga had been protecting.

The arcane barrier- a solid wall of blues, pinks, and purples meshed together- rippled ominously, but didn’t fall.

Then there were the murlocs.  And the hydra.  And the makura.

Arguably, those fights had been harder than the naga ones.  Though they didn’t actually have any importance in the overall objective, they were just full of ‘fight me!’. 

They passed through a cave and had defeat a sea giant- Tanyth came up to its ankle- of some sort to rescue younger-Kannan, who had been chained to a post next to that particular runestone.  The last anchor destroyed- and Kannan freed, if unconscious- and the shield hiding the Wrath of Azshara fell.  Like porcelain shattering on a floor, the ward cracked, splintered, and then buckled unleashing the sweet scent of the arcane into the cove.

“Damn.”  Younger-Tanyth swore, gazing at the tall, spiraling, vortex of doom with no small amount of trepidation.

“Yeah.” Older-Tanyth replied, grimacing.  She turned to her younger counterpart.  “Let’s go clear the air, little-me.  You guys take five.”

And with that the older hauled the younger away, back towards the cave.

**\--XXX---**

Shoving younger’s back against the sandy wall of a cave, older-Tanyth gave the girl a pitying, sympathetic look.  “Look, little-me. I’m sorry.”  She let her hand fall from younger’s shoulder, letting on hand rest against her hip, leaving the other free to gesticulate.  “You’ve got some hard times coming.  Good ones, too.  Lots of good ones.  But it usually gets worse before it gets better.”  Older smiled sadly and crossed her arms under her bust.  “And, well, we’re pretty known for- [unintelligible]- _motherfucker_!  Uh, healing.  Let’s go with healing.”

Younger-Tanyth arched an eyebrow.

Older-Tanyth had forgotten that she’d been this jaded after Stormwind.  Then again after-

Well.  _That_ information would be interfering with the timeline.

“Follow your gut.”  Older advised her younger self, trying to search for the right words to say.  She remembered whatever she had told herself had been important- incredibly important- to younger, but they just- the memory was just out of her metaphoric reach when she tried to remember the exact words. 

Looks like she was winging it.

“You’ve- we’ve- there are answers out there, little me.  Answers and questions and mistakes and victories.  But if you live in fear of messing up the intricacies of certain events, you’ll be miserable.”  Older-Tanyth smiled wryly, eliciting a similar response in her counterpart.  “I know it’s not our way- that we follow our heart, no matter how crazy it seems.  Just remember to use your common sense from time to time, too.”

Younger-Tanyth laughed and older-Tanyth stepped forward, wrapping her younger self in a hug. 

“At least I get a little taller, eh?”  Younger-Tanyth sniffled into elder’s shoulder.

Older threw her head back and laughed, feeling a strange disconnect from the girl she once had been.  “Yeah.  Not much, but a few more inches.”

“Do we- I mean- grr- doweeverfindahome?”  Younger stammered out eventually.

Older knew what her younger self was asking, though.  “Yeah.  Yeah we do.”

“’kay.”  Younger sighed, seemingly trying to soak up all of older’s comfort and steadiness before she withdrew, shifting back into the survivor that she was.

It made Tanyth-the-elder ache to see how lonely, how broken this version of herself was.  To be starkly reminded of how alone Tanyth-at-thirteen had thought herself to be, entirely unaware of-

“There are so many things I wish I could tell you.”  Tanyth-the-elder told her younger self as they made their way back towards the group.  “Things that would make so much sense and make everything better….but I can’t.  There’s so much for you to discover- and.”  Older-Tanyth closed her eyes and pushed back at the frustration of being so close and yet so far from being able to reassure her younger self.

Younger hastily brushing away tears from her eyes as they walked.

“Just….shine on, little me.”

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth gasped, doubled over on her knees as she vomited up what felt like acid.  Her limbs were jelly, not even having the strength left to shake after the series of brutal, constant movement fights this day had been.

But.  They had _won_.

The Wrath was defeated, the Tidestone- whole and restored- glittering in the tranquil remains of the former enemy.

“Fighting a watchtower-tall localized hurricane that tosses out random arcane bombs is _so_ not on my list of things to do for fun.”  Kannan-the-younger gasped out beside her, his hair half-white again from being caught on the fringes of an arcane explosion.

“Same.”  Tanyth panted, utterly exhausted from trying to keep the arcane bomb targets Purified.  The targeting mechanism of the large arcane spheres of doom- they were bigger than a _kodo_ \- snapped under the strain of Purify.  The bomb kept falling from the mouth of the Wrath, which meant running away while also dodging localized little circle-flares of unstable arcane energy.

But at least most of the explosion could be avoided.

Of course, the loose sand, screaming winds, and random tsunami waves generated by the Wrath were also a major cause for concern.

Moss-green did a wonderful job trading off with older-Tanyth to keep the Wrath distracted, while the black-clad woman and Maddie pelted the Wrath with spells and both Kannans fired arrows at it.

Still, they had whittled away at the network of magic holding the Wrath together until it essentially exploded into a violent gust of sea spray, the handmaiden’s wails of denial scattering on the winds.

Tanyth swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and shakily staggered to her feet, Kannan rising behind her.

“So, what now?”  She asked the older group, who had moved away to discuss what happened next without getting censored every fifteen words.

“Now you take the Tidestone back to Farondis.”  Older-Tanyth replied, her shock-white plank of hair having worked free and plastered to the side of her blood-and-dirt streaked face.  “And-“

Chromie waved her hand and the group suddenly dissolved into golden sands.  “Sorry.  But you’ll have to figure it yourself, Tany!”  Chromie pulled out a pocketwatch from…somewhere and her eyes widened almost comically.  “Oh no!  I’m _late_!  See ya around Tany!”

Then she disappeared in a whirl of sand as well.

“Well.”  Kannan said dryly, having woken up shortly before the main fight with the Wrath, but after they had scaled the rocks and a wrecked ship down from the overlooking ledge.  The Wrath had started trying to drown them as soon as they left the higher ground.  “That was fun.”

“Yeah.”  Tanyth echoed dully, exhausted.  She ran a hand over her face and scrubbed at her aching eyes a bit, grimacing at the layers of sweat and brine on her skin.  She walked towards the gently bobbing, churning Titan artifact.  It was made of crackling lightning and swirling waters, a multi-sectioned stone centered around a dense core.  “So this is the Tidestone of Golganneth, huh?”

“What do you know about it?”  Kannan asked curiously, holding his multihued hair out in front of his eyes for inspection.  Parts were still dark red, while others were bright red, and some strands were his natural shock-white.

“I know that Golganneth was the Titan of, uhh, skies, storms, and seas?  Skies and roaring seas?  I think?  Something like that.”  Tanyth replied, crouching down in front of the artifact and debating on how to move it.  “I know Golganneth empowered two of the Titan Keepers here on Azeroth- Thorim and, uh, one other.”

“Hm.”  Kannan hummed noncommittally, standing and meandering over towards her.  “I think we should use a net to carry it back…..I’m leery of touching it.”

“Same.”  Tanyth sighed tiredly before she cursed.  “All our gear is in Azsuna!”

“Shit.”  Kannan swore, running a hand down his face and glaring out over the area.  “I guess we’ll just have to make do with whatever we can find.”

Tanyth groaned tiredly.  “Awesome.”

**\--XXX---**

The portal back to Azsuna had collapsed.

“Well.  This sucks.”  Tanyth stated blandly, the Tidestone secured inside a crate, with length of rope tied together so they could carry it between them.

Kannan started cursing in Thalassian.

Before Tanyth could decide whether to cry or laugh hysterically- the journey back to the portal site had been long, hot, and all around unpleasant- there was a spark of arcane power.  Just a tiny flicker in the circular ancient window-used-as-a-portal before there was another spark, and then another before a portal swirled into existence.

Tanyth turned to Kannan, who shrugged.  “Beats dying of starvation here.”  Was his profound statement of action.

“Agreed.”

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> While I am trying to stay somewhat true to the lore- save for Tanyth’s actions affecting things- there are some movie ‘verse bits sprinkled in this chapter.
> 
> ―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth discretely rolled her eyes at Kannan as the newly returned-to-Azsuna duo listened to the ghosts of Nar’Thalas wax poetic about their Prince’s greatness.

Thankfully the portal had dropped them off at the same place they had left, near the broken, sandy shoals of the cave Tanyth had woken up in.  There were one or two especially large ruins- and they could see Nar’Thalas over the rise- and the two exhausted victors were more than ready to get back to camp.

Prince Farondis eventually noticed their bedraggled appearance and took his leave, though most of the elves just followed him and kept spewing heaps of empty praise onto his head.  The only good thing was that the ghost Nightwatchers took possession of the Tidestone.

They reached Nar’Thalas, the section that wound around to the mostly-sunken Academy before Tanyth’s vision started to get spotty.

“C’mon midget.”  Kannan murmured, stepping in front of her and calling his bow to his hand.

Tanyth was too tired to protest as she gratefully climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and trying to not squish the quiver still strapped to his back too much.  Kannan looped his arms under her knees and kept walking.

The next thing Tanyth knew she was blinking into awareness, prompted by her stomach.  “Thanks.”  She croaked out to Kannan, who had been waving some dried meats under her nose.  She took a long pull of what Kelo’reem had called ‘morning glory dew’, which was supposedly a better restorative than melon juice.  Her thirst quenched for the moment she tore into some rations and dried meats.

“Thanks for carrying me.”  She told Kannan- who was now next to her, lanky limbs sprawled out haphazardly with his back to the curved inner wall of the pavilion.  “ _Again_.”  She added somewhat dryly, bumping her shoulder with his.

Kannan grinned at her, his weariness staying his usual level of sass.  “Yeah.  Don’t get too used to it, kiddo.”

“Hmph.”  Tanyth snorted into her glowing, light blue, fruity-coconut-esque drink.  “What did I miss?”

“Walking.”  Kannan promptly replied, tearing off a wide strip of dried meat and a swig of his own dew.  “Prince Farondis magnanimously dismissing us.  Tomorrow morning we’re supposed to go see him, be proclaimed champions of Azsuna, and then we’ll get to pick a place for the old man to set up shop.”

“Fabulous.”  Tanyth groaned, ignoring the protests of her muscles as she tried to muster up the energy to stretch.  The humidity was rising and she wished it would just rain already.  She hated soupy heat!

“Yeah.”  Kannan drawled, eying her like one would eye a particularly industrious ant.  “He mentioned something about a Wellspring.  A place that is considered holy and has a considerable amount of leylines beneath it.  But we’re going to have to lay some banshee and spectre spirits to rest.”

Tanyth groaned, bending at the waist and trying to breathe through her body’s insistent complaints.  “Banshee are the restless spirits of female elves and spectres are the male elves’ equivalent right?”  Tanyth took a carefully controlled breath, interpreting Kannan’s hum as an affirmative response.  “Banshee can….they scream, right?  And can possess people.”

“Yup.”  Kannan replied wryly, watching lazily as Tanyth straightened for a moment and then bent forward again, reaching for her left foot.   “They look like a ghostly elf having a _really_ bad hair day and they have hands like those Withered- claw like.  From the stories at least.”  Kannan dug out a ration bar and bit of a fair chunk as Tanyth switched feet.  “Male elves- spectres are a lot rarer, though.  So I’m not sure if they can possess people as well or not.”

“Great.  _Fabulous_.”  Tanyth grumbled, pushing to her feet and stretching her arms towards the sky.  “This is gonna be awesome.”

“Hear, hear.”  Kannan toasted drolly, holding his cool container of dew near his temple.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

“Well.  That wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.”  Tanyth stated flatly as they laid out the runestones.  She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, honestly.

The spirits had been relatively easy to lay to rest, Farondis having informed them that these particular sprits were not suffering from the same curse as his people.

It was also a tiny, teensy bit funny to watch the wailing demented spirits bounce off a Power Word: Shield.                                                                                                                                               

Nor’Danil was once a town under Prince Farondis’ purview.  Centered high upon a hill, the main ruin had a massive Moonwell-looking pool at its center.  There were several smaller pools around the outside edge of the main ruin as well, with statues of kal’dorei maidens holding aloft offering bowls.  Aside from the road and the staircase that led to the main ruin, there really weren’t any major structures left in Nor’Danil.

As high up as it was, the view from the main ruins had an excellent view of the coast to the north, the outskirts of the Azurewing Repose to the west, and Nar’Thalas to the west.  To the south were the green wilds of Azsuna, filled with bears, unicorns, and owlcats.

Owlcats were adorable!  They had beaks and feathers- and stag antlers, because why the hell not?- but otherwise looked like large felines- like a mountain lion.  Just with feathers, a beak, and antlers.

_Adorable_!

There was a sufficiently flat area just a little ways away from the stairs that led up to the main ruin of Nor’Danil that would work just fine for the Morningspring Estate.  The forest portion could face the sea, and the garden would just fit next to the hillside.  It would take some work to flush it all out and make it pretty, but all in all they were pretty sure Kelo’reem would be content with the little- or not- nook.

While not at the peak of the hill that Nor’Danil set atop, the area was still ‘high ground’.  And the opposite garden-wall side just barely fit before the earth suddenly disappeared, no doubt the result of the Sundering.

Kannan came to stand next to her, eying the runestone layout critically.  Prince Farondis had come as well, with a contingent of Nightwatchers.  The Prince seemed incredibly intrigued by the operation and was anxious to meet Kelo’reem.

“Well.”  Tanyth gulped a little, wondering what they were supposed to do now.  The stones were dull and inert, but she could feel the arcane beginning to rise from deep within the land and seep into the stones.  “I guess we should set up camp here?  Make sure the Withered don’t get any ideas?”

“We’ll have to rest in shifts.”  Kannan agreed with a sigh, rolling his shoulders and exchanging a longsuffering glance with Tanyth as the elves spoke among themselves behind them. The Tidestone could be used as a last-minute power boost, according to the Prince, but in its restored form it was actually far more powerful, so the runestones would need to be sufficiently charged with the arcane before the Tidestone would be used.  Otherwise the Tidestone would simply overwhelm the delicate conduits and most likely cause a massive arcane explosion.

Tanyth had never felt the definition of irony quite so keenly.

A roar rent the air and soon enough the form of an enormous Blue dragon broke from the tall, green trees, its scales glittering brightly in the setting sun.

The Nightwatchers surrounded the Prince when the dragon turned towards them, but Tanyth merely waited as the large form soared towards her position.  Just short of her and Kannan the dragon dipped down, skimming the grass with its wings before, between one blink and the next, Stellagosa appeared.

“Hey, Stallagosa.  What’s up?”  Tanyth inquired, walking the last few steps to meet the dragon halfway.

“It’s good to see you again, my friends.”  Stellagosa smiled, her shoulders tense as she eyed the spectral citizens of Nar’Thalas.  “I’m grateful I was able to find you so quickly.”  The Blue dragon gave the assembled ghostly elves a curious glance before she refocused on Tanyth and Kannan.  “To the north, near the ley ruins you arrived in, there are some spectral vintners.  They usually leave us alone, but for some reason they seem to be bound and determined to use dragon scales in their latest batch of….vile concoctions.”

Prince Farondis stepped forward, lightly tipping his head to Stellagosa before he turned his blazing golden gaze towards Tanyth.

_‘I’ve got a bad feel-‘_   Was as far as Tanyth got before the Prince did what she was afraid he was going to do.

“Champion!”

Aw, _fuck_.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth huffed softly, the breeze tugging at tendrils of hair that had come loose from her plait.  Her bare feet dangled off the ledge she was sitting on and despite being dressed in what amounted to a thigh length sleeveless shirt and some night-shorts, she was plenty warm.  She was sitting on the uppermost ledge of the main ruin of Nor’Danil, the superior ancient craftsmanship allowing for the structure to still stand, despite most of the cliff face beneath it being….well, gone.

It was a _long_ way down to the next bit of solid earth.

_‘Some things never change, I guess.’_   The girl thought to herself, amused, as her eyes traced the lightening pinks and reds off in the distance.  The clear waters that sloshed gently around the broken shoals in the distance was underscored by the calls of birds and the occasional chittering of small critters.

She was savoring her early morning of calm, well aware that soon enough something would happen and she’d be pulled away from the idyllic, utopian moment.

Azsuna was all bright green grasses, collapsing sanctums, beautifully ruined structures, and fantastical wildlife.  There were bright white unicorns with proud golden horns and bright eyes.  Yet, nature was the same.  The unicorns were cut down by enormous brown bears.  Then the bears would fall prey to the bird-influenced feline owlcats; owlcats who would then fall prey to the hydra, who usually ran afoul of the basilisks.

It was bizarre to witness, given the idyllic locale.  There was no lion laying among lambs.  For all of its beauty, all of its pleasant climate and breathtaking scenery- Azsuna was not paradise.

Azsuna was not somehow closer to the ‘end’.  It was just a broken, crumbling land.  A tragedy in practice.

Tanyth smiled despite herself; equal parts bitter and satisfied.  Azsuna had been an important trip to make- one she did not regret.  If Kelo’reem could get word to Quel’Thalas about Azsuna’s rich deposits of crystalline mana, then many lives could be spared.  From what she remembered, the time between the destruction of the Sunwell and the restoration of the Sunwell was quite the span of time- like by a couple of years.

While not entirely certain how much or how often Sunwell-deprived elf needed supplementary mana to try and keep their addiction sated if not quenched, it was most definitely a ‘band aid’ solution- Azsuna seemingly had an overabundance of exposed mana.  And the flora and fauna were definitely infused with a great deal of ambient arcane energy.

_‘Hopefully I won’t bring Scourge traitors here.’_  Tanyth thought somewhat wryly as she as she gazed at her pale legs and contemplated tattooing them.  Kannan _was_ a script mage, and she had always wanted ink back before, but she hadn’t even found a design that truly called to her.  Of course she should probably wait until she learned a great deal more about the arcane herself.  Prince Farondis seemed bound and determined that ‘Azsuna’s champion’ would be educated in the arcane- and that was before the Blues of Azurewing repose and Kelo’reem got ahold of her!

She wasn’t complaining, but it was going to take a _lot_ of hard work to get to the point where she could make herself a tent-home.

The golden sun breaking free of the horizon, spilling its golden gaze over the waters and her hill roused her from her contemplations.  Sighing in defeat she reached for her sewing basket, not quite willing to give up her lovely view but knowing she needed to get to work. 

There was a raid planned- her and Kannan, naturally- on the exposed leyline ruins for today.  The city of Suramar was in what Prince Farondis called ‘old Suramar’.  In the lore, Suramar had been a ‘zone’- or country-esque sized area- as well as a city.  The city had a protective arcane shield around it, and the Withered came about from the exiles of the aforementioned city.  The waterway gap between Azsuna and Suramar was rather negligible, and the leyline scar was most likely visible for miles as the scar tapered up and then opened like a seam along the cliffface, nearly all the way to the waterline.

Thus Azsuna was a popular vacation destination for the Withered and Kannan and Tanyth were trying to cull the numbers, but it was slow going. 

Truthfully it felt like three new Withered popped up for every one they killed.  Just to ensure they weren’t shooting themselves in the foot, they had taken to cremating the bodies of the fallen, once the remaining Withered retreated back into the ruins proper after several hours’ worth of zerg tactics.  The ruined pavilions, buildings, and other structures- not to mention the unstable landscape- gave the Withered protection and ambush points.

So it was a work in progress.  At least she and Kannan were honing their battle skills in terms of quantity versus quality.

At least it kept her and Kannan away from side jobs for an entire afternoon.

Speaking of Kannan, over the past few weeks she and Kannan had been dreadfully busy.  Once they had laid the runestones, Stellagosa had asked for help with some demented vintners.  Prince Farondis had then broke in and essentially ordered her and Kannan to go ‘deal with’ the mad banshees and spectres.  Given that the ghost elf was still riding the excitement of being not hated by his people for the first time in ten thousand years, Tanyth let him have his moment.  And only bitched about elves and their arrogance after she and Kannan were well out of earshot.

Along the way they were ambushed by some owlcats; who, while adorable, were also deadly and very intent on eating her for dinner, so Tanyth was forced to kill them.  After a few months in the wilds, though, neither she nor Kannan were willing to let the bodies rot, so they wrapped them up in linen and stuffed them inside Tanyth’s sturdy backpack- the one from Stormwind- and went along their merry way.

The vintners were….mostly annoying, honestly.

Kannan’s script-tattoo on his face prevented him from being possessed- the banshee or spectre in question screamed in agony and then ejected themselves- and Tanyth, well.  The Power Word: Shield spell required intense willpower; resolve.  There was good reason why not every cleric could cast the spell.   And even among those who could there was a great deal of difference in shield dimensions and absorption power.

Tanyth had been told, back before, that she had been born with her granddaddy’s hard head and the stubbornness of a particularly contrary mule.  So she wasn’t truly surprised that even the one banshee who had tried to delve inside Tanyth’s body had been summarily kicked out.

A few of the vintners had come to their senses after a through asskicking, so there were still a few left, but not very many.  The few who remained were holed up in a ruined pavilion at the northernmost tip of Azsuna.  Prince Farondis was building relations with the crazy winemakers, but it was slow going as they were very convinced that the last ten thousand years hadn’t actually happened.  And that Azshara was still their benevolent Queen.

Tanyth had never watched that one Game of Thrones show or read the books, but she was fairly certain that that Cersei Lanni-whatever was less evil than Azshara.

But she digressed.

When she wasn’t ‘practicing’ with Nightwatcher Idri or Captain Thaldrys- Prince Farondis’ idea, not any of theirs- she and Kannan were stuck doing ‘small’ tasks all over Azsuna. 

If her life in any way resembled a game she would label the odd jobs ‘side quests’.

Some were fun and educational- she learned how convert arcane power into frost and fire!  On purpose!- but others were like the stupid book gathering task.  Quest.  Thing.

Excuse her, but they had had ten thousand years to gather books- why the hell were there any books left to gather?!

Amongst all _that_ madness, Tanyth had discovered a new material.  Ley-silk.  Or at least that was what Stellagosa called it.  It was produced from small larvae who burrowed into the ground and then built cocoons that looked quite a bit like tree roots to the untrained eye.  The delicate silk didn’t come free from the cocoon state easily- it tore and stuck together quite a bit.  And since the Prince hovered like a gossipy helicopter mum they had to make sure they didn’t hurt the worms that made the silk.

Still, the silk had an amazing amount of arcane power woven into it.  It was mostly purple with lots of hues of violet-tinged indigo threaded through it and was light.

Also a suspended doubled over square of it could stop a blow from Solaria.  _Unenchanted_.

True to her roots, Tanyth had found that they ley-silk made _amazing_ bandages.  True, the only thread it accepted was thread pulled from the same silk.  And the only needles that were fine enough to sew the silk came from the spiny leaves of a plant that the elves called _aethril_.  To be able to cleanly cut the new fabric had taken her and Kannan to the shores below Nor’Danil, to murder a particularly nasty overgrown crab.

But!

The bandages were especially potent.  So Tanyth was making up a batch or two, because it never hurt to be prepared.

Tanyth hummed as she made neat stitch after stitch, struggling to keep herself from growing frustrated.  Because if heavy silk bandages had pissed her off….these bad boys needed four times as many neat, precise stiches to keep from fraying and unravelling.

_‘If Kelo’reem does bring a blacksmith, I wonder if I can rig up a sewing machine?’_

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth and Kannan stood back-straight and heads high on either side of Prince Farondis, a half-step behind; waiting for the ceremony to begin. 

They were wearing their armor, but with the tabard of the Court of Farondis over them.  The tabard- which was really more like a long cloth with a hole for a person’s head that was draped over armor and secured at the waist by a belt- was sea-inspired blue, with embroidery to that effect.  A delicately formed golden crown with a bright, evanescent blue-green jewel in the middle was the main focus, while there was also gold edging around the neck.

Tabards were very much a _thing_ in Azeroth.  Wearing one without the proper permissions was a short-drop, sudden-stop offense.  Tabards were much like references or letters of introduction and thus very important.  Tabards were a uniform, an endorsement, and a declaration of intent at a single glance.

Thusly, being granted the right to wear a tabard was an incredible sign of trust.  Of inclusion.  Partnership.  Alliances.  Guilds in particular were notoriously protective and possessive of their ‘flag’, as all it took was one person wearing a guild’s sigil while doing something terrible to muck up a longstanding guild’s reputation.  Those wearing a group, guild, and-or kingdom’s tabard was considered an emissary.  A representative of the whole.

So Prince Farondis allowing her and Kannan to wear the tabard of his Court was a Big Deal.

The Prince of Azsuna was standing along the edges of the Wellspring that dominated Nor’Danil’s main ruin, his back to the setting sun.  In the center of the Wellspring- which had been cleaned of algae and lily pads- suspended in midair by its own power, the restored Tidestone of Golganneth pulled the Wellspring’s waters through it like a fountain.  Shards of cobalt blue turquoise green crackling energy rotated slowly around a luminescent core of silvery gold.  The waters of the Wellspring were pulled up through the core over, around, and through the rotating shards and then were forced into the air, falling back into the pool in a gentle shower.

As the light of Elune’s moon fell upon the pool, bathing the waters in an unearthly glow, Prince Farondis made his speech.  He spoke of Azsuna’s trials, of Azshara, and the hope for a cure for their curse.  Farondis waxed poetic for a long while before declaring Tanyth and Kannan ‘protectors of Nor’Danil, and champions of Azsuna’ before he led his people in some sort of prayer to Elune.

Tanyth was tired, sore, and more than done with all the pomp and circumstance _\- ‘a month ago these people called him a butcher; a failure for daring to defy their beloved Queen’_ , she thought somewhat bitterly- but then-

The statues of the maidens holding aloft offering bowls that surrounded the Wellspring in a near-perfect circle lit up, like a single ray of moonlight on a cloud-covered night.  The waters in the basins at the maidens’ feet- the statues were like, four Farondis’ tall- began to glow.  Glow, sparkle, and shine until- with a gentle breath on the wind- the waters ban to pour from the offering bowls into the reservoirs.

“She has forgiven us.”  Farondis breathed reverently, his ethereal golden gaze darting from one glowing maiden fountain to the next, wonder etched onto his face.  “Our goddess has _forgiven us_!”

The gathered crowd of ghostly elves cheered, their praises to Elune ringing out jubilantly into the night.

“Well.”  Kannan whispered as he and Tanyth moved to one of the stone benches, unsure if leaving would be offensive, but not wanting to intrude.  “ _That’s_ certainly interesting.”

Tanyth laughed softly, more an amused exhale of air.  “It is pretty awe-inspiring, though.”  She bumped shoulders with her friend as the Highborne apparitions gathered around the Wellspring and maiden-basins to praise their goddess.  “And while I’m a firm believer in the Light, I feel the need to express my appreciation, but I don’t want to offend anyone.  I’m not of their faith, after all.”  Tanyth smiled, tipping her head back against some still-standing stone latticework to gaze up at the purple-dark sky, the moon’s light blurring the stars from view.  “It’s an awesome sight.  I feel privileged to witness it, really.”

“Same.”  Kannan replied with an entertained undercurrent to his hushed tone, leaning back against a half-eroded wall and raptly watching the euphoric elves celebrate.

Her eyes strained against the radiance of the moon so Tanyth fixed her gaze onto her hands, as she didn’t want to gawk at the reveling ghostly elves.  She crossed her legs and began gnawing at her cuticles- a terrible habit that broke through whenever she was uncomfortable- inspecting her pathetic nails and wishing for some nail polish.  ‘ _There has to be some sort of nail dye or something,’_ she though as she made faces at her increasingly battered cuticles.  She loosened her greaves and set them aside, trying to keep her hands busy and away from her worried teeth. After what felt like a small ice age she opened her mouth to say something- anything- to break the silence and occupy her increasingly frenetic mind –but it was at that exact moment a thick shaft of moonlight draped itself over her. 

Draped over her like a cloak.  A tabard.

It was heavy, as stupid as that sounded, heavy and warm and soothing to her wounded soul.  The unnaturally behaving beam of silvery light separated, like thread from cotton, the smaller strands draping themselves over the skin of her arm.    Tanyth’s body went lax, her eyes fixed on the tender underside of her right arm.  Tanyth watched- strangely breathless- as the light ran across her pale underarm like silvery ink, curling and winding into elegant shapes that obviously meant _something_ , but merely looked like particularly pretty body art to her untrained eyes.

A suspended heartbeat of pain.  Concentrated, untainted agony that that both sweet and heartbreaking.  Frigid and searing.  Wholeness and devastation.

(Like one of those conversations where you pour everything out, without censure.  The good, the bad, the hidden.  Allowing yourself to rage and whine and grieve without social condemnations or objective justifications.  A cleansing of lingering wounds and slights- usually to trees, flowers, or the sky itself.  A dark, wretched cleansing that takes no small amounts of courage.  Because it relentlessly rips away rose-tinted lenses and often results in devastating self-recriminations.  Blatant sometimes unnerving awareness of one’s own darkest traits and desires.)

Then the moment passed.  The strand of light that marked her broke apart against the backdrop of the night, retreating up to the resplendent moon that hung heavy in the sky.

Tanyth pulled in a shaky breath, her teary eyes following the isolated moonbeam as it returned to Elune’s seat of power.  The silvery light on her arm felt heavy, as if she had been given a gift that was also a curse.  Something inside her was broken, shattered even.  And she hadn’t even realized that she was sobbing until she tasted Kannan’s skin when she opened her mouth to gasp for air.

“-got you.”  Kannan was murmuring, his lips close to her ear.  “Don’t you worry, Tan.  Let it go.”

So she did.

She let go of the betrayal.  The pain.  The rage.  The hurt.  The embarrassment.  The terror.  The helplessness.  Her own desires of revenge. The desire to see Stormwind burn.   Every revenge fantasy that she had ever used as a crutch, a stop-gap measure to survive.

But that meant acknowledging _herself_.  The broken, battered girl inside her that cried out in fear, anger, and agony.  The emotions that she tried to bat away with logic, experience, and faith.

It _hurt_.  Hurt so badly she could scarcely breathe.  But Tanyth had never shied away from anything that she could _fight_.  And she hated herself just enough to feel a sense of satisfaction at taking a proverbial sledgehammer to the glass house built atop her shattered, wasted hopes and dreams for this new life.

Right there, in Kannan’s arms under the light of Elune’s moon at the edges of the Wellspring of Nor’Danil, Tanyth let the festering wounds in her soul bleed.

(Fire rages.  It scorches, chars, and strips away nearly everything in its path.  But it is rather effective as a cleansing agent, no?)

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

_“That was cruel.”  There was no judgement in the deep voice, merely stating an observation._

_The silvery waters of the sacred pool swirled gently, images appearing inside._

_The massive stag, standing as tall as the gates of Stormwind themselves, with fluttering butterfly wings attached to its legs, and great, tree-like antlers that held an otherworldly sphere pawed at the ground with one of its colossal hooves.  The glowing eyes took in the scenes in the sacred waters and hummed in agreement.  “I see.”  There was a pause before the deep voice continued.  “It is a heavy burden to bear for one so small.”_

_The branches in the sacred cleaning creaked and cracked in protest of the sharp gust of wind that ripped through them in response._

_“Of course, beloved.”  The majestic stag acquiesced, bowing its great head in acceptance.  “I only meant that for one so small you ask much.”_

_This time the breeze was gentle, reassuring._

_“Then I will have faith as well.”  The stag snuffled, gently dispersing the images in the scared pool before it laid down beside the waters, laying its massive head against the soft moss at the water’s edge.  “May you find victory where so many others have failed, little one.”_

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Archbishop Alonsus Faol sipped on some sweet berry juice while patiently awaiting the arrival of the King and Queen.

Queen Tiffin’s private balcony was quite lovely.  It faced the sea.  To the west were the royal stables and the siege-lands- farmable lands in the case of a prolonged siege- and to the east one could peer over the high stone walls to the private section of the public gardens.  Also to the west were the Wrynn Mountains- impossibly tall and treacherous to any who attempted to cross, with snow at their reaching peaks. 

It was peaceful; the trilling of the birds and the call of animals while being far enough away that the smell didn’t linger.  The sun was setting, dyeing the gently sloshing waters of the Great Sea a myriad of reds and blues, with the shadows of the mountain lengthening as time ticked past.

Sadly, the news he carried was far from peaceful or relaxing.

Alonsus slumped heavily, his silk robes whispering against each other in protest as he sank into one of the padded sturdy chairs near the open balcony doors and rubbed at his forehead tiredly.  His weathered hands pushed at the tissue above his eyes gently as he tried to order his thoughts and prepare for the revelations to come.

It was, undoubtedly, going to be an acrimonious conversation.

‘ _Tanyth, dear.  I’m so very sorry that I left’_.  Alonsus thought bitterly.

The very same night Tanyth had come to the Cathedral, dripping blood and spilling terrible secrets, he had made his way to Stormwind Keep, a man on a grim mission.

Only _much_ later would he realize his folly.  He shouldn’t have been so hasty.  So assured that he, the Archbishop of Stormwind’s Cathedral of the Light, was unable to be misdirected.

Just past the Trade District he had been accosted by a desperate child and, as a true follower of the Light, the Archbishop had stopped to listen to the lad.  It had been a truly deplorable distraction; a time-buying strategy by those who he sought to protect his longtime ward against.  By the time Alonsus made it to the Keep, Onyxia- and the name sent a shot of pure, unadulterated _loathing_ through him, despite his attempts at making peace with it- had made her move.

While unable to entirely control the King or Queen, she had been able to influence the couple- with the help of the magically persuaded Bolvar Fordragon and a few other corrupt nobles who were in it for the coin- that Alonsus was ‘overreacting’.  The She-Witch had also- _conveniently_ \- had an urgent summons from Stratholme, bearing the sigil of High King Teranas Menethil.

Alonsus had argued for a stay of Tanyth’s residency, until he could return.  It was granted and Alonsus had been ferried off to the upper Eastern Kingdoms that very evening, bound for the second most populated city in Lordaeron.

And then, to his eternal shame, he had _forgotten_ the matter.

On his better days he reminded himself that he had had reason to lose track of his many irons in the fire.  One of the original Paladins of his Order of the Silver Hand had been accused of treason against the Alliance!  Alonsus not only presided over the trial of former-Highlord Tirion Fordring, he had taken part in a ceremony to strip his dear friend of the Light’s power and seen him into the dungeons to await execution.  Then, before he even had time to properly grieve and seek guidance in the aftermath of that event, he had been besieged with other matters that were equally of dire importance to the Realms.  Like ferreting out two warlock covens, uncovering a plot to assassinate High King Teranas within the clergy of Lordaeron, and then following a trail of breadcrumbs that revealed not only was the Light-be-damned Shadow Council still active, a new cult of Void-worshipping heathens had sprung up as well!

So Alonsus had been incredibly, mind meltingly busy.  He had rarely slept in the same bed twice and had been constantly on the move with a tight circle of implicitly trustworthy Clerics from the Tirisfal Abbey, the sister organization of Northshire Abbey based in Elwynn.

Still…..

He cursed himself for allowing the daughter of two dear friends to be forgotten.  Tanyth’s entire _existence_ had slipped into the recesses of his mind.  Right up until the day he and some others from the Tirisfal Abbey had been ambushed by some dark acolytes- later identified as members of the mysterious ‘Cult of the Damned’- and in purging the dark energies from his brethren, a small tendril of Void magic burnt away inside his own mind.

It had taken nearly a _month_ for Alonsus to recover from the knowledge that he- a paragon of the steadfast power of the Light to his people- had been influenced by Shadow.  Not just Shadows but the _Void_.  And he hadn’t had the faintest idea!

He had headed back to Stormwind as soon as possible, once he had finished up his pressing business- a cult obsessed with death and dark resurrection was never a pleasant group to uncover- and gathered his needed proof, which had been hidden deep underneath Light’s Hope Chapel in the northernmost parts of the human kingdoms.  Damn near the borders to Quel’Thalas actually. 

Living in such troubled times he had been leery about trusting messengers or a letter, as he wanted to be physically present to ensure Tanyth’s safety.

_‘If I’d known then what I know now, I would have come straight back the moment I wrapped my head around what had been done to me.’_  The man thought darkly, lazily taking another sip of his sweet berry juice and then setting the glass back on the side table. _‘I would have had to make another trip of the proof- and possibly missed a few clues to the Cult, but I would have been in time.’_

The door opened, knocking the man out of his maudlin thoughts.  He stood quickly, smoothing down his robes-of-office silks by rote and smiling kindly at the exhausted King and Queen.  “Varian, Tiffin!”

“Alonsus.”  The tired young King returned, his murky green eyes full of anger and sorrow.  The young man came to a stop in front of the old Cleric and seemed to hesitate.

The Priest _ached_ for the shame and hesitance he could see in Varian’s stance and he reached forward and clasped arms with the young man firmly.  “Varian.”  He said gently as the King’s own response was hesitant.  Timid.  “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m the King.”  The man retorted hoarsely, letting his arms fall away from Alonsus as he turned to glare out over the rail of the balcony.  “I’m not-“

“Oh budge over.”  Tiffin groused as she pushed past her husband and nearly collapsed into Alonsus’ arms.  “I was supposed to protect her.”  The Queen spat bitterly, her fingers tangling in the sash across Alonsus’ waist.  “She….she was Anduin’s _favorite_.   She _helped_ me!  I wasn’t supposed….I never should have been…what kind of Queen rewards _loyalty_ with _torment_?”

“I know, child.  I know.”  Alonsus soothed, directing them over to some mirrored couches and gently prying the teary-but-not-crying-because-she’s-actually-really-angry-too Queen off of him.  The moment Varian slid down beside the woman- straight backed and grim faced- the usually composed Queen latched onto him.  “I, myself, have my own regrets.”  The weary old man sank down into the cushions on the opposite couch and clasped his hands lightly as he stared down at the glass table that separated him from the Royal couple.  “I’m widely regarded as the most powerful, knowledgeable Cleric in the Kingdoms and even I was……subverted.”

“Without you, Alonsus, that…. _Black Dragon_ -“  He spat the qualifier like the obscenity it was. “-would still be leading my Court around by the throat!”  Varian growled, one arm around his wife and the other balled up into a fist on his armored knee.

“And poor Bolvar would still be under the sway of that horrid red stone.”  Tiffin added, crossing her ankles and tucking them underneath her body, her poor face smushed against Varian’s pauldrons.  “But the traitorous witch has been discovered, Bolvar is on the mend, and now Stormwind can begin to investigate the true damage that Onyxia and her allies managed to cause.”

Alonsus raised a silver, bushy eyebrow and smiled sadly.  “And yet I am the one who promised young Tanyth sanctuary and then disappeared.”

“They found old blood in the winecellar of the former Prestor Hall.”  Varian put forth dimly, his eyes glaring vexed, livid holes in the horizon beyond the balcony’s railing.  “Too much blood.  Even nigh on a quarter year later there was more than enough for the Alchemists to match it to a young human girl of Tanyth’s approximate age.”  The King’s eyebrows furrowed and he scowled, turning his stormy gaze to the old Cleric.  “No matter what they try, however, they cannot conclusively link it to Tanyth.  Not even when comparing it to her cousin’s blood.”

Tiffin narrowed her eyes and lifted her head to glower at Alonsus.  “What?  You know something, don’t you?”

“Sharp as always, dear.”  Alonsus agreed, gesturing to the leather bag he had brought with him.  “Might I suggest dinner, putting young Anduin to bed, and then reconvening?”

**\--XXX---**

They reconvened in the King’s private study, at one of the smaller tables, generous goblets of Elwynn wine in front of each of them and a bottle of the harder stuff nearby.

The room was done in tasteful blues, with plenty of earthy accents and Stormwind’s trademark blue-grey stone.  The hearth was massive, a remarkably large pelt spread out before it, with two ornate, comfortable chairs placed nearby, yet another pelt laid down between them.  Off to the side was the ornate doorway to the Royal Chambers- the gilded doors were closed, as was proper- and Alonsus knew that Varian’s personal study was beyond that, with the Royal Overlook- the King’s balcony- beyond even that..

The table they were arrayed around were more for intimate family gatherings than business, but Alonsus had delivered both Varia and Tiffin and was one of the few people on Azeroth who were granted the right to meet the Stormwind Royals on such intimate terms.

“This is going to be…..rather enlightening.”  Alonsus informed them wryly, digging through his pack and withdrawing a handsome, thickly bound book.  “I was caught between duty and family.”  He continued, opening the book and then carefully cutting into the fabric of the binding with a small knife.  “As both of you might know, my distant cousin, Natalie Seline, was once a Bishop at the Cathedral.”

“By the Light that was an age ago.”  Varian breathed, sipping carefully at his cup of wine, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Before….before the First War.”

Alonsus nodded, his smile nostalgic.  “She was a Bishop.  Among the Priests sent to study the Shadow magics the Horde used.”  Alonsus sighed, carefully lifting an oilskin-wrapped sheaf of letters from inside the cache within the leather of the binding.  “These letters-“  He held them up in the flickering of the candlelight, so the name of the recipient could be read.  “-are hers.  Given to me to safeguard.”

“Archbishop.”  Tiffin asked carefully, noting her husband’s sudden glare and stiffened stance.  “Why do you have letters bearing the name of my uncle-by-marriage?”

“I would like to know that as well.”  Varian gritted out, his expression fierce.  “As I was under the impression that this meeting was about finding our lost Stormwind lamb?”

Alonsus gave them both a pointed ‘I’m getting there’ look.  “To be brief and blunt: for proof.  After his son’s death at the Pass, Anduin Lothar found comfort in my cousin’s arms.  And bed.”  The old man carefully laid the papers on the table and cut off the couple’s attempts to interrupt him.  “Being as neither of them were particularly safe people to bear children- Lothar being who he was, and the Kirin Tor doing their level best to erase my cousin’s teachings of Balance from the world- they devised a plan.”

Varian grit his teeth so hard a muscle twitched along his jawline.  “Anduin Lothar was-“  The man broke off that statement and took a few calming breaths before his eyes flickered open again and he continued, in a quieter voice.  “Beyond being my mother’s brother, he was my mentor.  My teacher.  The man who held the kingdom together after my father’s death and my mother’s sickness; the sickness that eventually led to her death less than a year later.  There wouldn’t _be_ a Stormwind without Anduin Lothar!”  The man tossed back his remaining wine and reached for the brown-bag liquor.  “If I’m reading this situation correctly- and I’m fairly certain that I _am_ \- then the lost Stormwind lamb who was _tortured_ by one of my two closest Advisors _on my watch_ is actually my _cousin_?” 

“That’s the short of it.”  Alonsus admitted, tipping a bit more wine into his mouth as he reached for the next hidden set of letters.  “Nat and Lothar never planned to have children, as that wasn’t the nature of their relationship.  However, given the times they lived in, they chose to take some steps to prove Tanyth’s legitimacy, should she need the protection.”  A silver ring with a large, multicolored stone fell out of a tube packed with cotton and Varian growled.

“That’s Callan’s ring.”  Varian said matter-of-factly, running a slightly unsteady hand through his chestnut hair.  “The one passed down from his mother, Cally.  He never took it off.  Lothar couldn’t bring himself to bury it with his son.”

“Yes.”  Alonsus affirmed, digging into his satchel and pulling out another large book with a grunt of effort.  “Given the laws of succession, Tanyth isn’t actually a Lothar.  In the traditional sense, anyhow.  Not in line for any throne that she holds blood to, due to her being a girl-child.  Likewise any children she has will not be eligible to inherit.”  Alonsus tossed a small, apologetic smile at the statue-still Varian.  “Because of that, they decided it was best to- for lack of better terms- ignore that part of her heritage.  Lothar was loath to leave anything of his house as proof, but felt that his lady wife would be displeased with him should he ignore his duty as Tanyth’s forebearer.”

Tiffin smiled softly, her blond hair trailing over her right shoulder as she considered the statement.  “That certainly sounds like something the late Lady Cally Lothar would demand.”  The Queen’s smile turned nostalgic.  “Calia was named for her, you know?  Lady Lianne and Lady Cally were close as sisters, if Lady Lianne’s stories are to be believed.”

Varian nodded woodenly, Tiffin sneaking an arm behind him to run soothing lines into his taut back.

“Unfortunately, Lothar died within a year of Tanyth’s birth.”  Alonsus began peeling back yet another false back to retrieve more proof of his claims.  “And the Kirin Tor were getting more aggressive with their….displeasure of my cousin’s teachings.  Nat disappeared shortly thereafter.”  The man smiled over the top of the binding he was wrestling with.  “I truly would have come to you with the evidence if I felt that Tanyth was in danger, Varian.  But she was safe in obscurity and I arranged for her to come to Stormwind as soon as the Cathedral was livable.  But given the circumstances- your own new marriage, holdouts from the war, and the rebuilding efforts to name only a few of the factors- I felt that keeping the secret was in the best interest of everyone.”

Varian relaxed a fraction- well, it was more of a slump- and took a shot straight from the bottle of liquor. 

“As to how Tanyth ended up in the camps to begin with- Nat spent a fair bit of time in the camps in her role as a Priest.  A nontraditional one, but a fully trained, powerful Priest nonetheless.  She met a woman whose child, unfortunately, died shortly after birth.  As the child was also a girl and Nat had been, by and large, concealing her pregnancy to the best of her ability, a deal was struck.”  Alonsus freed another sheaf of oilskin wrapped parchment and laid them on the table.  “An exchange was made.”

The King began to loose the oilskins and read the documents, but made a gesture for Alonsus to continue.

“I wasn’t made aware of this until Tanyth was nearly two, just before my cousin disappeared into thin air, actually.”  Alonsus sighed heavily and collapsed back against his hard-backed chair.  “By then the reconstruction was underway, Lothar was long dead, and you and Tiffin were still….working through becoming a team.”

Tiffin stifled a laugh and even the somber King cracked a grin.  Their first days together had been _eventful_.

“Then Tanyth was under my direct supervision and the time never seemed to be right to inform her- or you, Varian- of her parentage.”  Alonsus shrugged and took another shot of wine.  “And….well, we all know what happened from there.”

“Still.”  Varian rumbled, passing his finished pages of neat cursive over to Tiffin to read.  “I am……unhappy.  Not merely with you, but with Lothar as well.”  The young King scowled at the words written on the page before him and reached for his drink.  The bottle of amber liquor.  “Callan was like an older brother to me, in addition to being my favorite cousin.  I would have, at the very least, kept a closer eye on his little sister.”  Varian glared murder at the document he was holding.  “The circumstances of her birth wouldn’t have mattered, either.  He would have raised her himself, if need be.  That was the sort of man he was.”

Tiffin sighed and finally spoke her mind.  “But, given Lothar’s strained relationship with his only son- from the wife he loved more than his own life- it doesn’t truly surprise me that Lothar, for all intents and purposes, washed his hands of raising his unexpected addition.”  Tiffin smiled and shook her head, laying the letter facedown beside her and reaching for the next one that Varian had finished.  “The line of Arathi is known for their….exploits, on the battlefield and off.  But as Varian said, she was- _is_ his cousin.  Out of the line of succession or no, she’s family.”  Tiffin absently wound some of her golden hair between her fingers.  “At the very least, Calia would have taken her as a ward, should Stormwind have proved hostile to her.”

“Family.  Belongs in Stormwind.”  Varian amended distractedly.  “The line of Wrynn was decimated by the Orcs…..the wars.”  The King’s murky green eyes flitted from wall sconce to wall sconce as he eased back in his chair and threw out his other arm behind Tiffin.  The young man sought answers in the flicking lamps for a few long moments before he returned his heavy gaze t Alonsus.  “I haven’t much family left, Alonsus.  Anduin-“  Varian abruptly broke off the statement when Tiffin shuddered beside him.

Tiffin blinked determinedly and shook her head when Varian glanced at her, giving her husband a wobbly smile as his hand drifted over to play with the hair draped over her shoulder.  “Anduin loved- _loves_ her.  Knowing their connection only makes Tanyth’s absence that much more…..bitter.”

The King of Stormwind hummed in agreement, his gaze distant.

“I am….keenly aware of that fact.”  Alonsus agreed, his eyes dark with unspent grief.  “And for that I am truly remorseful that I didn’t confide Tanyth’s parentage to you- the both of you- earlier.”

Tiffin set down the letter she was reading and locked gazes with the Archbishop.  “But if Tanyth is your cousin’s daughter-“

Alonsus finished Tiffin’s thought.  “-Shaina Fuller is the last of her family.  Yes.” 

“Oh.”  Tiffin subsided, her eyes wet with unshed tears as she leaned further into her husband’s loose embrace.  “Shaina is going to be _heartbroken_.”

“Yes.”  Alonsus agreed, choosing not to mention that Shaina had already formally disowned her ‘cousin’ from the Rolls.  “But her aunt- Shayline, Tanyth’s chosen caretaker- never had the chance to inform her niece.  I doubt she would have, honestly.  With times being what they were and Shayline’s oath to keep Tanyth from those who would seek to harm her.” The man hesitated before he somewhat wryly added.  “And I’m not sure the Kirin Tor finding her would have been a good thing…..for _anyone_.”

Tiffin gave a startled bark of laughter.  “No.”  She replied, shaking her head, her blonde hair swishing in the light. “The Kirin Tor tend to indoctrinate heavily and I doubt they would have been well pleased with our willful little lamb.”  The Queen grinned crookedly at the old Cleric, reminding him somewhat sharply of the mischievous young girl she had been before she had transitioned into such a regal, composed woman.  “I suspect there might have been fire.  Entirely not-accidental fire.”

Her companions chuckled, Alonsus more than the subdued Varian.

“And my feelings of his contributions to Azeroth aside, Anduin Lothar had no shortage of enemies.  Even inside Stormwind.”  Varian sighed, reaching out for another hit of the good stuff with his unoccupied arm before he resumed perusing the evidence.  The young King seemed to be trying to commit every detail to memory.

“Indeed.”  Alonsus echoed heavily, suddenly exhausted all the way down to his marrow.  He needed to spend a measure of time in quiet contemplation of the Light.  His very _soul_ was weary.

And he had the strangest sensation of impending calamity.  No matter how he tried to shake off the ill-feeling omen.

There was a knock on the main door to the chambers and Varian rose to answer it, coming back with a balled up piece of parchment, which he tossed on the table before taking a healthy pull from the bottle, winding over to collapse near the cheerfully crackling hearth, the bottle pressed to his forehead.

Tiffin snatched up the crumpled up ball of parchment, read the massage, and then sighed.  “Well.”  She drawled dryly, handing he message to Alonsus.  “I’m not sure if I’m pleased or disappointed that Mathias’ man lost her.  On the one hand, she might have gotten back before Onxyia was unveiled.  On the other…..”  Tiffin steeled herself and forced a smile.  “On the other hand she would be home and I could begin to make amends.”

Varian’s hummed agreement drifted over from the direction of the hearth.

“The Crossroads?  In the Barrens?  On _Kalimdor_?”  Alonsus muttered with a perplexed frown on his weathered face.  “Why on earth would she be _there_?”

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth opened her eyes, feeling strangely empty. 

_Numb._

_Hollow._

_Bare._

Trying to taste something other than night-old snot she tried to move her body, but failed.

_Miserably_.

“If you could _not_ heap abuse on my poor abdomen that would be _great_.  Because I _really_ have to piss.”  Kannan’s scratchy voice drawled, drawing her attention to where, exactly, she was. 

Tanyth was half-sprawled across Kannan, and they were both in their full armor and Farondis tabards, uncomfortably leaned up against one of the crumbling pillars that was near-ish to the bench she vaguely remembered retreating to.

Blinking hard against the morning sun, she raised an arm to shield her gritty, sensitive eyes.  In doing so she noticed the pale silver artwork on the underside of her arm.

Before she could decide whether to pretend she didn’t remember anything or threaten Kannan within an inch of his life should he ever tell a soul of her messy breakdown, aforementioned ass spoke up again, having levered himself partially upright.

Kannan whipped a waterskin out from under his tabard and took a long pull before he spoke.  “I- well, Prince Farondis does too- think it’s Ancient Darnassian.”  He said, gesturing to her raised arm.  “Old Darnassian was considered…well, _old_ back in the time of the Kaldorei Empire.  Ancient Darnassian is a magnitude older than that.”  Kannan grimaced and Tanyth flushed cherry red as he halfheartedly picked at his snot-crusted, tear-dried edge of his tabard.  “Legend tells that Ancient Darnassian was the language of the first kal’dorei.  Back before the Highborne came to power, when the Well of Eternity was used exclusively to worship Elune.”

Hair plastered to her face with dried bodily fluids she pointedly _wasn’t_ thinking about, Tanyth whined at the back of her throat when she tried to move her uncooperative, protesting body.

Kannan gave her a commiserating look from his half-slouching position.

“Can-“  Her voice broke and she gazed at the still-shimmering water fountains all around them with lazy contemplation, cursing herself for forgetting her own waterskin.  That was when she noticed that they were largely alone.  “Where is everyone?”  She managed to croak out, working her heavy tongue around to try and encourage some saliva production.

“Prince Farondis took most of them back to his palace.  Something about making a worthy place to make a new Wellspring in Nar’Thalas and the palace.”  Kannan narrated helpfully.  “Left some guards and a few who wanted to tend to the Wellspring.”  The half-elf glanced over at Tanyth’s shamefaced expression before adding gently.  “Prince Farondis- the writing on your arms glowed before the sun came up- said that the only thing he could make out of the text was a variation of ‘clean’.  Ancient Darnassian is…..well, interpretative.  It isn’t nearly as….clear or precise as modern languages.”

Tanyth nodded slowly, still looking intently at the looped and elegant sprawling inscription on her arm.  “I feel…..raw.”  She confessed, her brows drawing together as she tried to puzzle out her own state of being.  “Lighter in a way, but also bruised.”  She glanced up at Kannan and let her arm flop down onto her thigh, having worked herself into a cross-legged position as the sun warmed her noodley muscles. 

“I would think so.”  Kannan murmured, looking over at some nearby trees instead of her, red creeping up his pale neck.  “You- ah.  Part of why the Prince picked out the section meaning ‘clean’ or ‘pure’ was the……nature of your breakdown.”  He told her quietly, the words barely carrying to her ears.  “You blathered a great deal about…stuff……that happened.  Before you left Stormwind.  And before.”

“…..I see.”  Tanyth acquiesced, enjoying the breeze and thankful for the chittering of critters and the calls of birds, as then they weren’t sitting in absolute, awkward silence.  She let that lie, her face feeling as if she could sear stir-fry on it, and tried to puzzle out how she felt.  “I think it was like- well, sort of like lancing open a boil.  Or an infected ingrown hair or something.  I feel….raw and exposed and uncomfortable.”  That took a great deal of fortitude to admit.  She was a private person and felt sour at having lost her composure entirely somewhere public.

Even if the ‘public’ was mostly ghostly elves.  And Kannan.

“But I also feel…..more balanced.”  Tanyth continued briskly, determined to not allow her pride to derail the process of coming to terms with herself.  “And while I’m really tired- I feel like I didn’t sleep at all- I’m also….less weary?  Somehow?”

Kannan finally looked back towards her and nodded in understanding.  “Makes sense.  I certainly felt a lot better after….well, you know.”

Tanyth grinned, a laugh bubbling up out of her throat without her express permission as she felt a wave of relief wash over her.  “Yeah.”  She leaned back onto her palms and looked up through the great, leafy trees at the cloud-dotted blue skies above.  “Quite the pair, you and I.”

“Well.”  Kannan drawled, sounding much closer to his usual self as he shuffled around, raising himself up to a standing position with more than a few muttered complaints.  He held a hand out to Tanyth, who took it and let him pull her to her feet.  “At least, between the two of us, life is never _boring_.”

Tanyth crashed into Kannan, nearly tipping them over as she giggled madly.  “It’s not funny…..but it _is_.”  She gasped as they made their way to their humble campsite, both of them ready for a quick wash and some food.

Kannan huffed in despair but a reluctant grin sprawled along his lips as they made their way through the sun-spattered grass.  “Whatever, idiot.”

“You’re still an _asshole_.”  She assured him cheerfully.

“Yay.”  He deadpanned dryly.  “The one constant in our lives.”  He gave her a mocking bow as he dumped her onto her ass near her tent.  “I live to serve.”

“Jerk!”  She parried cheerfully, unlocking and digging into her pack with gusto.  “And here I was trying to reassure you!”

“Don’t quit your day job, kiddo.”

“Hey!”

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

The pads of her left hand traced the glowing lines on the underside of her arm.  At her feet, languidly stretched out along the stones of Nor’Danil, was a nightsaber.  _Her_ nightsaber.  Long limbed and dark as a starless night, the light reflecting off the Wellspring danced over the shimmering coat in shades of navy and violet. 

The nightsabers had arrived the third night after the Wellspring’s unexpected blessing.  Some were traditional in that they had dark coats with white stripes, while the nightsaber that had chosen Tanyth as ‘hers’ was purely dark, save for a strip of grey along her throat.  Legend said that the nightsabers were created that way by Elune herself, so that they could blend into the shadows on a moonless night.

Tanyth had known that nightsabers were closely connected to the kaldorei, but she had vastly under anticipated just how much.  The cursed denizens of Azsuna had taken to keeping a vigil near the Wellspring, all but tripping over themselves to provide comfortable places for the nightsabers to lounge.  According to the ghost who had taken up the mantle of ‘head priestess’ for the moment, these particular nightsabers had been thought lost after the Sundering.

One of the oldest nightsabers had sauntered forward from the pack and approached Tanyth- who had been frozen somewhere between ‘kitty!’ and ‘ferocious dark predator that could eat a fool in one bite’.  The great cat sniffed the startled girl, staring at Tanyth with intense golden eyes for a long, heart-stopping, suspended moment before it sneezed and decided it was a lap cat.

Tanyth’s tailbone was bruised from the fall, but it was totally worth it.

Over the next few days Tanyth learned that the feline’s name was Basha’na, she was a matriarch in her own right, and she liked offerings of smoked fish.

Let it not be said that the nightsabers were _small_.  Basha’na was larger than the average horse, her head easily tall enough for Tanyth to scratch behind her furry ears, even when the mighty feline was lounging.

Like now.

Basha’na could communicate with Tanyth, but more in impressions and ideas.  It would take time and effort for them to truly be partners, but eventually Basha’na might consent to carrying Tanyth into battle.

Or so the former Highborne ghosts said.

Tanyth was pretty sure that the only reason the mighty cat had picked her was because Tanyth melted for kitties and was enough of a sop to go fishing in the nearby ocean for fish every day.  With Kannan, of course.

Basha’na raised her head from her paws and yawned, bright teeth gleaming in the moonlight _.  ‘Little star?’_   The feline questioned, the words more an impression of warmth and comfort and query than outright dialogue.

“I’m alright.”  Tanyth murmured quietly, dropping her marked arm down to gently scratch between the nightsaber’s ears.  “Just trying to figure out why- what.  When.  How.  To what end the Moon Goddess marked _me_ , of all people.”  Tanyth laughed quietly, the sound barely carrying to her feline companion.

The silvery script meant _something_.  What, precisely, no one could tell her- Ancient Darnassian was considered ancient even before the Well went kablooey- but Elune did not often offer direct interference.  So what did the script on her arm mean-for Tanyth and for _Azeroth_?

Basha’na’s purrs rumbled through the stone and Tanyth, despite herself, laughed.  Abandoning caution she slipped off the bench and cuddled into Basha’na’s silky coat, the feline curling her tail around to flop onto Tanyth’s lap.  Ignoring the praises the kaldorei were signing to Elune, Tanyth absently scritched the massive kitty and gazed contemplatively at the moon slung low and half hidden in the night sky.

_‘Why me?  Why now?’_   Tanyth wondered, occasionally catching the glow of the script on her arm out of the corner of her eye.  Predictably the sky held no answers, but that didn’t stop Tanyth from trying to find one.

There was something tranquil in this place.  It was difficult to quantify, really.  But even under the waning light of the moon the waters emanated a sense of serenity and calm.  Like a shuddering breath at the end of hope’s vigil; a surge of strength at the last possible moment.

Tanyth ignored the chilly winds and the leaf-smattered patterns that draped over the stones as the moon traveled across Azeroth’s clear, black sky.  Even after more than a decade of learning the constellations of Azeroth, she still found herself childishly searching for the ones she had once known.  They weren’t there- never were- but somehow she felt more at peace with that fact. 

Acquiescent.

When she turned her gaze inward she cringed.  Her soul still felt raw, as if it had been scrubbed clean by pumice soap.  It had been cathartic but _painful_ and even near on a week later she was still smarting from the discoveries the cleansing had left in its wake.

Tanyth thought of older-her.  Of the shock-white hank of hair above her right brow.  She thought of older’s pained stare, when they had been arguing about healing spells.  The guilt and remorse for something beyond a simple slip of memory.

Just what the hell had happened, for her to give such a look to her younger self?

She didn’t remember seeing a tattoo on the underside of older’s right arm, but the greaves she had been wearing had leather straps, more than seemed to be strictly necessary.  Granted, all those straps might have been enchantment enhancements or secret weapon stashes.  And it only seemed to glow under the light of the moon.

Still…..

_‘What is coming that required Elune herself to mark me?  And why?  Wouldn’t someone else make a much better champion than me?  I’m a bandage maker, a nobody!’_

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

The air sparked and crackled with arcing strands of the arcane, the wildlife silent as the runestones meant to draw the Morningspring Estate to Azsuna lifted from the ground- and those suckers were about hundred pounds of pure thorium, before the crushed jewels and mithril that made the magic pathways- and tilted themselves up, standing on end.  As more arcane energy pooled and began to twine around a focal point in the center the runestones rotated.

It reminded Tanyth of a machine performing a task, double-checking that task, and then moving on to the next function.

The process had begun, abruptly, in the early hours of the morning, and it lasted until nearly evening before the next exciting thing happened.  By then Prince Farondis and Stellagosa- and a number of their respective underlings- had arrived to gawk at the spectacle.

Eventually the onlookers moved away, afraid of the massive amount of arcane power destabilizing and killing them.

Tanyth abruptly blinked away spots in her eyes, nearabouts to sunset, somewhat mystified when the estate seemingly phased into existence.  As if it was merely fashionably late to a party.

The hedge-steelbloom ended up rather crushed into the cliff-face.  And the goldenwood forests looked a little strange ending abruptly about a hundred feet from the edge of the drop to the shoreline.

Kelo’reem exited his ornate front door like the rockstar he was, looking around curiously and all but lighting up like a child in a candyshop at all the gawkers outside his gates.  “I _told_ you so.”  The elf called back over his shoulder, sounding as smug as an unrepentant cat.

Whatever the response was- Tanyth made a mental note to learn Thalassian sometime soon- sent Kannan into a fit of faux-coughing.

Kelo’reem put his hands on his hips and tossed his white hair primly.  “Yes, well I’d like to see you-“

Tanyth was distracted by Basha’na for a moment and the next thing she knew she was being hugged.  Firmly.  Before Kelo’reem pushed her back and made a face at her armor. 

“Hm.  We’ll have to fix that, dear.”  The elf muttered, tilting her shoulders this way and that to get a good look at all the tears and holes.  “Still, you’re in one piece.  _And_ you’ve found me new acquaintances!  Such a good apprentice~!”

Tanyth went to refute that claim, but a voice behind Kelo’reem interrupted her train of thought.

“Mind you, he would have arrived six inches lower than planned had I not caught his transposition error.”  The voice was warm.  And rich.  Like honey falling over a perfect waffle.

Oooh.    _Girl._

Then he stepped into the light and _damn_.

Like most elves she had met- ghostly cursed ones included- Newcomer was stupidly pretty.  Dressed in dark reds, the sigil of Silvermoon on his chest, the blond man had cheekbones sharp enough to cut cheese, a perfect nose for peering down at imbeciles haughtily, and damn _fine_ arms under that tailored silk.  His eye glowed with a somewhat ethereal, not-quite-human light but were a rather lovely shade of blue.

Kelo’reem huffed, twirling about to face the speaker and jabbing a pianist finger firmly into a firm chest.  “Look, _brat_.  I _taught_ Telestra that process!  I, for all intents and purposes, _invented_ it!  Just because-“

“-I did it _right_ means you were wrong?”  Newcomer broke in, smiling smugly.  “Why, your humility is _astounding_ , Arch-Magister.”

Kelo’reem didn’t dignify that barb with a response, choosing instead to gaze around like an excited old quilter in a fabric store.  “Remarkable!  Yes!  This is perfect!”

Kannan and Tanyth shared a very longsuffering, rather alarmed look.

“Apprentice!”  Kelo’reem barked, heading for Prince Farondis’ retinue.  “Attend me!”

Tanyth went to speak, but Kannan helpfully shoved her after his old man. 

Focused as she was on stumbling after Kelo’reem, Tanyth missed Kannan and the unknown elf’s first introductions.

Probably for the best, really.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


	9. Chapter 9

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth growled in frustration at her hands as the arcane power that she had called forth refused to change form into proper Frost, forcing her to release the hold she had on the if-done-properly Frostbolt spell.  This, of course, caused the energy she had been gathering to destabilize and shatter.  The sparks from the failed spell weren’t unlike stray wisps of a hearth fire and she hissed in discomfort as the energy came into contact with her bare fingers and lower arm.  The arcane slivers stung like unexpected pops of bacon grease over a hot stove, while the few Frost shards she had managed to convert were more akin to sleet than proper ice.

Yet another sign of her failed progress in elemental transformation.

Frostbolt was one of the most common Frost School spells that Mages learned.  Kelo’reem had her learning Frost spells first because they were actually much more difficult than the introductory Fire or Arcane standardized spells.

_“You must learn the basic spells for all three traditional Schools of Arcane Magic before I set you free onto my library.”  Kelo’reem explained patiently, Prince Farondis nodding along beside the High Elf master, as they were all inside the man’s floating tower.  “I have no doubt that you will create many spells of your own- you have the imagination and predisposition to scoff at the Kirin tor’s ideas of ‘limits’.”  Kelo’reem smiled smugly at her and picked up his cup of tea.  “But to ensure that we don’t, ah….’clip your wings’ so to speak, we must ensure that you are introduced to each School of Magic as objectively as possible.  We shall begin with Frost……”_

Shoddy attempt or not, her failed splinters of magic stung like heck and thus she spent a few moments shaking out her arms and cursing.  Mostly under her breath because Kelo’reem might be lurking. 

Or worse, _Prince Farondis_.  The Prince of Azsuna had _ideas_ on how young ladies of ‘proper status’ should speak.  Despite Tanyth pointing out that she was a war orphan with no family or ‘breeding’ to speak of, Prince Farondis would assign her lines- bloody lines!- from ancient texts whenever he caught her speaking in an ‘uncouth’ manner.  So, needless to say he wasn’t impressed with Tanyth’s habit of cursing. 

Tanyth, meanwhile, was learning written Old Darnassian through osmosis or something.  Probably had something to do with Prince Farondis hovering and turning the session into a learning experience during her stints as a copying scribe.

Eh, whatever.  She was learning to decipher Old Darnassian and was getting plenty of practice speaking it, that’s what mattered!

“And _that’s_ why you’re supposed to wear sleeves and real gloves.”  Kannan drawled dryly, the sounds of parchment rustling carrying over to her from his lounged position on a garden bench.

Tanyth whirled around, blowing an escaped strand of hair out of her sweaty face and crossing her arms to better glare at her partner.  “But when I wear gloves that cover the fingers I lose….something.  Contact.  Resonance.  And I won’t have the luxury of full gloves in a fight!  The protective enchantments-“

“-that save your pretty fingers work best when there’s nothing entirely covering them, I know.  Allows the magic a better grip on your skin, yada yadda.”  Kannan cut in, laying his heavy tome down on his chest to look at her.  “But you’re a _melee fighter_ , first and foremost, Tan.  You’ll be wearing full plate soon enough.  You’re gonna _have_ to sacrifice pure enchantment value for physical armor soon enough.”

“No I won’t.”  Tanyth moaned piteously, sauntering over and plopping down into the lush grass that made up ‘their’ area of the practice gardens at the Morningspring Estate.  Her smarting hands found purchase in the thick bed of grass as she continued to whine.  “Arcane spells like to latch onto plate.  So it’s either magic or armor, which sort of defeats the purpose of me torturing myself to learn all this shite.”

“Yes, yes.  You’re an angsty teenager.  I get it.”  Kannan corrected, propping his head up onto his arms and settling in for a chat.  The wind rustled his newly returned-to-white hair, a welcome bit of breeze in the heat of the cloudless day.  “Arcane spells are volatile and metal armor can act like a lightning rod if you’re not careful.  Fire spells are a terrible idea to cast while in plate, high chance of your becoming Tanyth-the-fried.  Frost spells, however, are fine- so long as you _control_ them.  Arcane and Fire can fry a person inside armor, but you can also give yourself hypothermia if you’re not careful with Frost.”  Kannan gave her a lazy salute and an equally lazy grin.  “So be careful.”

 _‘And-or lose appendages to frostbite.’_  Tanyth added inside her own mind.

Kannan rolled his eyes at Tanyth’s scowl and added.  “And anyways, most Mages prefer cloth armor because- a) it’s more receptive to mana enchantments; b) it tends to not latch onto spells cast by Mages, serving a defensive and offensive purpose; c) most mages don’t have a lifetime of experience with channeling the Light like you do; d) it’s much cheaper to repair or replace, and e) because cloth armor is traditional, hence a status thing.”  Kannan made a face at her.  “And since you attract trouble wherever we go, we need all the armor you can get.”

“First of all- I resent that.”  She steamrolled over Kannan’s comment of- “ _resemble, you mean?”-_ and continued blithely.  “Kelo’reem-“  Tanyth huffed in amused disgruntlement and corrected herself when Kannan gave her a _look_.  “ _Master_ Kelo’reem says that my ease of use- well, how easily I access the Light or whatever.  My use of the Light, no: _how_ I use the Light- that’s what I was looking for!- gives me an edge.  That I might be able to wear say, a plate chestplate and Lady Sylanna’s bone-reinforced greaves instead of the leather embroidered bracelets because my control is ‘magnificent’.  Did _you_ know that High Elves can treat leather to be arcane friendly? It just takes forever and a day so it’s horribly expensive.”  Tanyth grinned a little.  “Or so my out-of-touch with the common folk Master informs me.  His ideas of forever are…skewed.”

That was another thing she had learned.  The rarity of enchanted items.  Enchanted armor, especially, needed regular upkeep in addition to any physical damage that needed repaired- like her armor. 

When she had asked why more people didn’t use enchanted armor Kelo’reem had laughed and informed her that even those who could afford an enchanted set of armor usually couldn’t afford the upkeep.   He explained that that was why so many people joined the Kirin Tor and usually settled down inside some position within Dalaran- because the city and the Council had subsidies for maintaining gear and discounts for buying new equipment.  Even in Silvermoon where magic was as common as breathing the Convocation had a stranglehold on bulk orders- for groups such as the Farstriders and the city guards- and the aristocracy usually snapped up what few reliable Enchanters were left.

Good Enchanters, at least.  Enchanting was a skill that required much practice and an almost absurd amount of materials to reasonably master.  Exceptionally few Enchanters ever came about without a sponsor of some sort, tying them to one powerful group or another.  

Groups such as the Kirin Tor, Dalaran, the kingdoms- such as Lordaeron or Stormwind- and even the bigger mercenary Guilds. 

Because to acquire the dusts and shards needed to make new enchantments one needed items that were _already_ enchanted.  Disenchanting was the process wherein the magic was sucked out of the item and it destroyed the item in question to do so.  Thus it could take perhaps ten or so destroyed items to yield enough materials to enchant new items.  Then came the delicate, time-consuming, and precise labor of imbuing an entirely new enchantment into a set of ‘immaculate ’ armor or properly reactive weapon.  And, well, practice makes perfect.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

So while living in Stormwind certain enchanted items were common enough- such as bags- they weren’t _precisely_ as common as Tanyth had rather naively assumed.  Then again she had worked at the Cathedral, having learned how to seal things with the arcane due to the relationship between the Cathedral and the Arcane Academy of Stormwind.  And after that she had been fostered by an affluent family.

 _Perspective_.

“If the old man said so, then it’s true.”  Kannan returned with an amused tilt of his right eyebrow.  “You have an amazing capacity for the arcane- as you’ve been told- but coupled with your rather instinctive use of the Light, well, there are Mages who spend their whole lives studying and pursuing the arcane arts who would _kill_ for such innate benefits.”  Kannan made a face and gave Tanyth a firm stare.  “Literally.”

Tanyth made a face at him, winding blades of grass into a bastardized flower crown as she mulled that over.  “It scares me a little.”  She admitted finally, keeping her gaze fix on her self-appointed task.  “I mean- I’m just Tanyth.  A bandage maker from the Cathedral.  No family, no father.”  She smiled wryly, nearly bitterly but not with quite enough contempt.  “Why _me_?”

“Why not?”  Kannan threw back at her, blue eyes intent as he searched her face. 

“I could turn out to be a power hungry maniac?”  Tanyth parried, scowling at Kannan’s incredulous expression.  “What?  I _could_!”  She insisted indignantly, tossing her grass flower crown at his stupid face.  She waved around a particularly long blade of greenery and continued.  “The Dark Lady Tanyth.  Oh- come on.  It could happen!  It _could_!”  She threw her brandished prop at the chortling form of her friend.  “You have no faith in me.” 

Kannan nearly rolled off the bench he was laughing so hard.  “That-“  he gasped, steadying his open tome with one arm and wiping tears of mirth away from his eyes with the other.  “-is the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard.”  He flapped a hand in her direction negligently.  “Yes, yes.  The ‘only difference between a hero and a villain is how history remembers them’.  We’ve _had_ this discussion, Tan.  _Several times_.  Light give me _patience_.”

Tanyth pouted, going so far as to jut out her bottom lip insolently.  “I could be an awesome Dark Lady, you know.”  She mumbled impudently at her still-chuckling friend.

“You?  A Dark Lady?  How quaint.”  A voice intruded.

Tanyth closed her eyes and sighed.  Expressively.  “What do _you_ want?”

“Mind your tone, _human_.”

Tanyth’s eyes snapped open and Kannan groaned in misery as she turned to face their visitor.  “Sticks and stones, elf.”  She smiled sharply at her adversary.  “Harm a hair on my head and _Master_ Kelo’reem will have your hide, your almighty High Elf-ness.”

Anger burned behind bright blue eyes and the blond took a step forward, bringing him fully through the archway into Tanyth’s training grounds.  “You insolent little-“

“Is there something you need, Prince Kael’thas?”  Kannan asked, his tone longsuffering.  “Because if you’re only here to argue with Tan- _again_ \- might I remind you of what happened last time?”

Tanyth smiled, perking up a bit at the reminder of her arch-nemesis being chewed out by her arcane teacher for setting Kelo’reem’s prided sungrass on fire.  Well, he’d been trying to set Tanyth on fire, but she had dodged.

“And you-“  Kannan continued, pointing a finger at her and scowling darkly.  “Do I need to remind you of how you spent the fortnight after that particular disaster?”

Tanyth wilted.  “We agreed to never speak of that.”  She whined, her eyes as mournful and round as she could make them.  Hopefully she looked pitiful instead of weird.

Kannan snorted in disbelief and gave her a deadpan stare.  “Well.”  He drawled tightly, pointedly picking up his tome and shielding his face with it.  “If you wish to spend your time hunched over dusty tomes, trying to scribe newer copies of books whose languages are lost to you and having to keep redoing them because, again, you don’t know what marks are from age or wear and what ones are important.  _Be my guest_.”

It was official.  Tanyth was sulking.  Geez, her hand cramped just _remembering_ those brutal nights.  And she had thought Prince Farondis’ line punishments were agonizing!

Why was the Prince of Silvermoon intruding upon Tanyth’s well-earned bit of paradise one might ask?

Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider was a member of the Kirin Tor’s Council of Six and had come along with Kelo’reem mostly to ensure the crazy old elf didn’t blow up Dalaran by accident.

Why he was _still here_ was a mystery to Tanyth.

As a person in the lore, she had always felt gutted by Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider’s bitter end.  He lost his father, the woman he loved, and nearly all of his people at the hands of Arthas Menethil, the Prince of Lordaeron.

After Arthas found the runeblade, Frostmourne _,_ and went entirely, batshit crazy.

And Arthas was responsible for all three of the above, if she remembered correctly.  Arthas got the girl, then the blade- and there was that little tidbit about him killing his own father and releasing the undead Scourge loose on his homeland- and then Arthas killed Kael’s father after rolling through Quel’Thalas and murdering-resurrecting-as-mindless-minions just about everyone along the way.

So, Kael had a pretty _shit_ hand dealt to him.

Kael’thas as a person, however…..

After a rather snippy first dinner, the Prince had been nothing but rigidly polite to Kannan.  Tanyth assumed Kelo’reem had had words with Kael about Kael’s treatment of the man’s son in the man own home.  Since then Tanyth had become the Prince’s favorite target as he seemed to enjoy belittling and baiting her at every turn.

 _Every.  Turn._ Occasionally two or three times.

Kelo’reem only intervened occasionally, calling the experience ‘character building’.

_“Many are going to look down on you, little one.”  Kelo’reem explained patiently, his bright eyes peering over the top of the tome he was reading and pinning the exasperated Tanyth into place.  “Best you learn how to deflect and reflect from the best.”  The man sighed, his brows drawing together as his eyes roved over her form.  “Give him some time, my Apprentice.  Kael’thas has suffered a series of…..embarrassments of late.  Time and distance should restore his usual benevolent nature.”_

Tanyth wasn’t convinced.  “Look, _asshat_ -”

“What a vile thing to say.”  Kael’thas retorted, stalking closer and looming over her with a holier-than-thou expression.  “Though I should-“

Tanyth, _more_ than _done_ with Kael’s _shit_ , pushed herself to her feet and glared up at the much-taller-than-her Silvermoon _brat_.  “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but humans don’t have a hive mind, _Sunshine_.”  She told him.  Pleasantly. Through clenched teeth.  “So whatever human pissed in your morning oats-“  She saw his eyes widen briefly, then narrow in anger as his nostrils flared in annoyance.  “-isn’t being affected by your magnificent bout of assholery.”  She threw her hands up in the air and turned away from him, noting his clenched fists and the color rushing to the surface of sunkissed skin.  “Just little ‘ole me.”  She tossed a glare over her shoulder and cursed when most of her hair fell out of her plait and plastered itself to her sweaty face no doubt ruining the effect of her ferocious glare.  “So give it a rest, maybe?”

Tanyth could hear him grinding his teeth from across the clearing.  Well, and the air heating up was another clue.  Kael was a massively talented Fire Mage.  Still, she ignored the smoldering volcano in the background and reached for the arcane again.

_“The arcane is a life-based force.”  Kelo’reem lectured, the sun falling through the windows of his library and draping them both in warm gold.  “It is, at its heart, order given form.  Though, the power of the arcane itself is chaotic.  So, to be clearer, it could be said that the arcane is a transformative power, meant to be carefully conducted and guided by the hand of a responsibly wary mage.”  His bright eyes pinned Tanyth into place for a long moment before he continued.  “Respect magic, Apprentice, or it will break you.  The only difference between a wonder of magic- a miracle- and being torn apart by torrents of arcane power is discipline, imagination, and understanding.”_

_“I’m not sure I follow.”  Tanyth admitted, taking notes dutifully with a charmed elegant pen inside a leather-bound diary Kelo’reem had gifted her.  “Because it sounds as if you’re less concerned about memorizing incantations and more concerned with- well, dealing with the unexpected.  Creative thinking under fire.  That sort of thing.”_

_Kelo’reem smiled proudly and came to stand just behind his chair, resting his hands lightly on the back of its ornate headpiece.  “That, my dear Apprentice, is precisely what I am saying.”  The man lifted one elegant shoulder in a careless shrug and continued.  “The Kirin Tor- and even the Convocation- would have you believe that the arcane is learned in rules and rote.  That laws and mortal-made circumstances limit what the arcane can accomplish.”  He smiled as he rounded his chair and sat himself behind his massive desk._

_Tanyth tilted her head up and stared at Kelo’reem intently, trying to discern the crux of whatever he was trying to teach to her._

_“It’s all lies, of course.  Meant to control innovation and keep the masses in line.  One cannot properly govern the magical masses if they are constantly innovating in unpredictable areas.  Toward that end magical education and research are tailored towards areas where the Council or the Convocation can properly monitor them.”  He leaned forward and smiled brightly at her, resting his sharp chin on his braided fingers.  “You, dear, have far too much potential to be shackled by such notions.  You have wit, wisdom, and temperance- and I intend to make you legend.”_

Tanyth wasn’t sure about the whole ‘legend’ part, but she appreciated Kelo’reem’s blatant disregard for overly complicated rules, laws, and ‘proper’ learning procedures. 

Letting her annoyance and frustration fall away under the steady beat of the sun on her shoulders, she centered herself before she reached out, calling the power of the arcane from around, above, and under her to her.

Supposedly this part of Mage training took months- sometimes years- as young Mages had to learn how to draw in a steady flow of the arcane.  Too little and nothing happened, too much and-

Well.  You know.  Death.  Usually a messy one.

But Tanyth had been channeling the Light through her since she could walk- or at least it felt like that- and the arcane, while wilder and much more resistant to her guiding hand, was much the same. 

Much like when using the Light, she allowed the power she didn’t actively need for her spell to linger, threading through her until it dispersed naturally or made its way around again. 

Yet another thing that, apparently, most people found difficult.  Even Kannan.

To Tanyth, though, it was instinctive.  Like asking a fish how it managed to swim so well.  Kelo’reem attributed her uncanny ability to regulate her consumption of the arcane to her being used to weaving the Light while sewing bandages.

_“You are already accustomed to splitting your attention.”  He explained when she had been entirely confused- and a little scared- of how simple the early arcane exercises went for her.  “While the arcane is different, it is not entirely…well, different.  The Light can do just as much harm as the arcane, if left unchecked.  You merely learned at a very young age how to split your attention between your task and grip on the arcane- excuse me, the Light.”  The man flapped a hand negligently and pointed at the cushion she was supposed to be using as her focal point.  “I’ve always said that good habits start young, but even most quel’dorei are leery of teaching children to harness the arcane before their tenth winter.  Until then it’s all memory exercises and incantation lessons.”_

As the sphere formed in her upraised palm Tanyth took a deep breath, concentrating hard on maintain the shape and density of the power in her palm.  Through slow, even breaths she opened her mind, searching for the realm of the waterlords.  _‘Water first, then wind.  Shape the water, then make it frost.  Once the spell is shaped throw your arms forward and release the bolt.  Preferably at the target.’_  She reminded herself, trying to ignore the prickling sensation of eyes watching her.

The first exercise had her forming the Frostbolt in one hand.  Kirin Tor guidelines split the spell between both hands- held out to the side while casting- and then had the Frostbolt meet in the middle, doubling its intensity.  Supposedly.  Prince Farondis and the other Azsuna elves formed the spell between their palm at chin level- never splitting the conjuration stage.

Tanyth was being taught to form the spells in her offhand, so she would be able to cast them- theoretically- while also wielding her sword.  In theory her spells would be much weaker, but as Kelo’reem liked to point out Tanyth had _many_ mentors who were Masters of the Arcane Arts.

Hence her understanding of the spells she was being taught was much more…..well, it was almost like cheating.  The information and experience she had at her disposal.

Take for example the lecture on the nature of elemental transformation-

_“Shaman are, in fact a cousin to the Mage.”  Kelo’reem lectured, the wall of the library showing a diagram of Azeroth and the connected Elemental Planes to complement his lecture.  “Mages- through the power of the arcane- reach through the veils between planes and transform the power of wind and water into the School of Frost or earth and fire into the School of Fire.”_

_“Is that why Kannan’s fire spells don’t catch everything around them on fire?”  Tanyth asked when her teacher paused, tapping her pen on her open journal.  “I had always wondered about that.”_

_“It is.  Excellently observed, Apprentice.”  Kelo’reem did, actually, look thrilled with her question.  “Prince Farondis, for example, can summon gigantic, flaming boulders that are hot as molten lava.”_

_Tanyth nodded- she had seen the Prince do that.  The series of flaming boulders of doom had neatly carved a massive lake into the ground near the Crumbled Palace.  It was cleaned up, lined with stone, and then dedicated as a lesser Wellspring, by using a phial of waters from the one in Nor’Danil._

_“You’ll also notice that some especially powerful magi- such as myself, of course- can summon elementals as companions.”  Kelo’reem continued, waving a hand and restoring the wall to its usual state.  “They are quite useful and can be sent back to their planes to rapidly regenerate health.  Should they be dispersed they return to their plane and regenerate- though much more slowly than if they were merely wounded.”_

Tanyth’s arm shook lightly as her brain screamed a little in protest.  To be fair, she was trying to do a number of complex things at once- gather and maintain arcane power, reach through the elemental veils, and then using the arcane to transform water and wind into proper Frost.

 _‘Almost there…..almost…just a little…..’_   Tanyth coached herself, watching the swirling little ball of power begin to form hairline fractures, wet-water blue in some places and snow-white in others.  The conjured sphere was now more water-blue and frost-white than arcane purplish-blue, a sign of progress really.  Then a throat cleared pointedly behind her and her attention wavered away from her task, causing her spell to fail.

 _Again_.

Tanyth bit back a scream as her formerly stable ball exploded, sending shards of freezing ice into her arm.  The cold water felt rather good, but damn it all ice shards and arcane burns stung!  “What?!”  She snapped, whirling around to glare at the unimpressed form of the Prince of Silvermoon.  “You hate me, I get that.  I’m human and inferior.”  She steamrolled his attempts to speak and poked a finger into his sternum, more than a _little_ ticked off that he had interrupted her best attempt to create a Frostbolt to date.  “I get it, ok?  Want me to make you a banner?  I’ll put Light-be-damned _sparkles_ on it!  But if you could kindly _fuck off_ and leave this _lowly human being_ to her _lowborn studies_ it would be a much better use of your _most esteemed time_.”

For the first time since she had known him, the Prince seemed nearly, genuinely amused.  “My, but what a generous offer.  Magenta sparkles, if you would.”  He replied simply, his grin stretching wider.

Tanyth stepped back a bit, officially creeped out a bit.  ‘ _He should have bit my head off or sprouted fire from his fingertips by now.’_

“But it is generally seen as _proper manners_ -“  He emphasized those words strangely.  “-to inform a lady that she should seek a new set of clothes.”

Tanyth looked down at her outfit.  Much like her usual, casual attire- at Kelo’reem’s place of residence, anyways- she was wearing a dress-over-pants.   The pants were red, while her split-at-the-waist dress was white with cute little apples and other red fruits embroidered along the edges.

Of course, since Kelo’reem was _ridiculous_ her slippers matched her outfit perfectly.

She glanced up at Kael’thas, honestly confused.  “What?”

The Prince sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation before- without looking at her- he informed her, in as bland a voice as she had ever heard.  “You’ve got a _lady_ issue, dear.  Do I need to go over the facts of life with you?”

Tanyth suddenly flushed bright red, her body reacting to her utter mortification before her mind caught all the way up.  _‘Of all days for Aunt Flo to make her appearance._   _Mother_ -‘  “Thank you, Prince Kael’thas.  I, uh, need to- um.  Bye.”  She picked up the length of her dress and wrapped it around her waist- hopefully to hide the spot she had most likely bled through at- and rushed for the entrance to the gardens.

**\--XXX---**

“You just let old Margaret worry about those stains, dear.”  The elderly maid smiled kindly at Tanyth.  “Not the first time I’ve gotten blood out of these silks and likely won’t be the last.”

Margaret was half-elven, though not one of Kelo’reem’s children.  She had silver hair and age lines around her eyes, but as she was nearing three hundred, Tanyth was impressed by the old woman’s otherwise youthful appearance.  Margaret was the head of Kelo’reem’s household staff- Tanyth hadn’t met anyone else, they were sneaky and efficient, considering it a point of pride to never be seen by Kelo’reem’s guests- and the one Tanyth had rushed off to find.

How had she forgotten that menstrual cycles were a thing?

And now she was in courtesy debt to bloody _Kael’thas_.  Of all the races and people in this universe to owe a bit of courtesy to!

Words could not properly express her sense of utter mortification.  She had gotten Aunt Flo’s blush on _borrowed clothes_.  _Priceless_ borrowed clothes.

Tanyth was in a mortified daze as Margaret prodded the bathrobe-clad young woman towards her suite and settled her into a bath.

A bath couldn’t enjoy properly as it was a race against time.

Margaret- bless her!- had left feminine items out for Tanyth and by the time she had changed into her pajamas and crawled under the covers, the Stormwind bandage maker was more than ready for a nap.

**\--XXX---**

To Tanyth’s pleasant surprise the people she surrounded herself with were rather frank and pragmatic about the unexpected arrival of her menses.  Kelo’reem had spent an entire day lecturing her on the different brews that were used to suspend the monthly cleansing, including many different anecdotes along the way.

_“Never buy discount Khadgar’s Whisker, Apprentice.  The less than savory suppliers like to pad real bits of the plant with knotgrass and it ruins their potency.”_

Kannan, meanwhile, was amused because he was still sort of an asshole and found some small amusement in how the situation unfolded.  Fortunately Prince Kael’thas had been kept far away from Tanyth and she had yet to deal with him.

Most importantly, the unexpected plasma came out of the silk and her underclothes!  _That_ was what mattered most.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth’s head landed heavily on the only open speck of space at her desk.  _‘I think my brain is going to run away.  In self defense.’_   She bemoaned inside the sanctity of her own mind.

Kelo’reem was an eccentric old elf who was freely open-handed with her.  Tanyth found that Kelo’reem- in his own flamboyant manner- sort of filled the Archbishop-shaped hole in her life.  The two men were incredibly different, of course, but they were similar in how they took the place of ‘older male relative worth emulating’ role.

However…..

They also shared a similarity in that they saw something ‘exceptional’ in her and organized her workload thusly.  No matter her flailing about sleep being her favorite sport.  The cool night air whispering in from the open windows of the floating library was a welcome relief to her aching head and so Tanyth allowed herself a moment to wallow in self-pity.

Her days typically started with Margaret shaking her awake about an hour before sunrise.  The lovely half-elven lady brought Tanyth some warm bread with butter and honey and either milk or orange juice to tempt the sleepy sleepyhead up and out of bed.  From there Tanyth would stumble down to the main area of the gardens to sleepily go through the motions of ‘welcoming the day’ with Kelo’reem and Prince Asshat.  For the two elves it was a religious experience, tied into the former Highborne-come-High Elves’ veneration of the sun.

(Mostly done to separate themselves further from the Night Elves and their worship of Elune, the moon goddess.  The Sunwell being such an important cornerstone to Quel’Thalas also had a hand in that, in Tanyth’s opinion. To be fair, though, from what she had learned- and what she remembered, she had been writing _that_ mess of conflicting information down in a diary she kept shoved inside her old backpack- there was a long relationship with the Well of Eternity and religion- worship of Elune- as well.  Up until Azshara had the Well’s attendant Priests all killed off not long before the waters turned black and the Legion made contact with the power-hungry monarch.)

Still, High Elves were nothing if not big on tradition and ceremony, so over the ten thousand years since the Sunwell had come into existence there came religious observances.  For Tanyth- and Kannan- that early morning ritual boiled down to a yoga-meets-learning-early-arcane-discipline session with a measure of stillness and reflection under the golden gaze of the early morning sun.

After the morning ritual was complete Tanyth went for a shower and breakfast on the balcony.  At some point Stellagosa- or one of her trusted Scalewardens- would show up, as well as Prince Farondis or Nightwatcher Idri or Captain Thaldrys.  Eight times out of ten Kelo’reem spent his mornings with the Blues, the Azsuna ghosts, or Prince Kael’thas.  Oftentimes a combination of all three parties.

So mornings were mostly spent away from the Morningspring Estate.

To be entirely frank Tanyth and Kannan were often lent out as problem solvers.  At least once a week they spent time culling the Withered near the exposed leylines they had arrived at or something similar.  There were buzzard birds that were trying to take over the northernmost tip of Azsuna and given that all their birdy parts could be used in various ways- and the damn birds just kept coming- that was also a common task. 

Still, there were some mornings they were drafted to go learn from the stuck-in-time ghosts at Nar’Thalas’ broken Academy.  If nothing else, the experience assisted in Tanyth’s growing fluency in the Nar’Thalas dialect.  She could sort of read it now, too!  At least three times a week Prince Farondis insisted his Champion- and Kannan, who the Prince tended to treat as Tanyth’s subordinate- train with Idri or Thaldrys.  Idri and Thaldrys both preferred efficient martial might and subtle magic to flashy magic and flamboyant fighting styles, so those mornings usually meant hearthing back to the estate in various shades of bruised pride.  And body.

Because _of course_ Kelo’reem’s home had enough magic to imbue a Hearthstone.  The rock with the pulsing blue arcane script was about the size of Tanyth’s palm with what looked to be a foreign alphabet etched into the back side.  The back worked sort of like a password, really.  Using just a tiny bit of the Light or the arcane she traced the correct symbols in the correct order and held on tight.  Thirty seconds later- so long as nothing disrupted the magic and prematurely aborted the spell- after a controlled surge of arcane power she found herself standing just past the gates of the Morningspring Estate.

Hey, it sure as hell beat walking all the way back!

Kelo’reem was still hammering out an agreement with Basha’na and a few of her brood to act as steeds, at least in the Isles.  The nightsabers were a finicky lot to begin with, but as creatures of Azeroth they could also utilize a bit of nature’s magic.  Towards that end there was a bond between rider and nightsaber that was bridged by magic, allowing the nightsaber to transverse time and space in much the same manner elementals were called forth from one of the elemental planes.  The science behind the magic of the practice made Tanyth’s head hurt, but essentially the nightsabers could be summoned and dismissed.  They could also ignore a summons and dismiss themselves.  Hence, terms and conditions.

 _Magic_.

After a light lunch- usually served in the floating library- Tanyth was left to Kelo’reem’s tender mercies.  The man was a brilliant teacher but he also was one of those hardassed types who like to _push_.  Every day Tanyth felt like she was drowning, floundering helplessly in a sea of expectation.  It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying learning from Kelo’reem or that she was ungrateful for the opportunity, she just felt like she was constantly falling short of his expectations.

Which was why she had stayed at her little nook of the library instead of joining the nightly gathering around the Wellspring.

Tanyth raised her weary head and looked over her scattered free sheets of parchment, ink dribbles, and books.  She had been almost finished with her assignment for the day- transposing the modern Frostbolt spell into one of the older arcane languages- when she realized that she had majorly fucked up.

Dalaran mages used two distinct languages to craft spells- Dalanese and Kirin.  ‘Dalanese’ was a bastard language, a merging of the Common tongue with three-thousand-years-ago High Elf Thalassian- aka ‘mid-Thalassian’.  It was complicated and highly dependent on context and deemed inefficient and-or dangerous in crafting proper spells.  Thus, Kirin- as in ‘the Kirin Tor’- was created as a standardized, new language that reminded Tanyth a lot of Latin, and to an extent English. 

In that it seemed simple, but there were bastard words _everywhere_.  Also a single word could have up to six different meanings depending on how it was used.

Like crane.  _“She had to crane her neck to see the movie.”  “That bird is a crane.”  “They had to use a crane to lift that object.”_

 _Homonyms_.  Bloody homonyms.

And that was before slang, homophones, and homographs.

Which led to Tanyth’s current issue: the original text wasn’t in Kirin, as she had been told, but in some unholy mashup of Dalanese and perhaps very early Kirin. 

 _Fuck_.

Transposing a spell was not unlike transcribing a song.  You knew the song, could hum the notes, and might be able to belt out the chorus better than the original.  But none of that meant you could translate all that into neatly arranged notes all in their proper place on a page.  No, to put song to paper was a _trial_.  You had to learn how to craft the musical measures, the staff, the clefts, what each line and space meant, that timing is an actual thing, the difference between a flat or a sharp- and suddenly you realized that there was a whole lot more to a song than your favorite refrain.

Learning how to transpose spells was a _lot_ like that.  Much less simple from the eyes of a composer.

So her spell breakdown- which spanned six uncut pieces of parchment which were about the size of one of those yellow legal pad pages- was not wholly unusable because instead of ‘transferring energy from the elemental plane’ what her diagram said was something along the lines of ‘dislodging Emmy bank’.   How ‘Emm’y and a bank got involved she had no idea.

 _Languages_.

Tanyth groaned.  Loudly.

“Doing alright?”  Kannan asked, startling her a bit and causing her head to snap upwards in alarm.

“You scared the shit outta me.”  Tanyth grumbled, cracking her neck and slumping back into her high-backed chair as Kannan stalked closer, depositing himself into the chair beside her.  “Thought I’d fell asleep here and it was morning already.”

“Nah, it’s still early.”  Kannan assured her, tugging her parchments closer and making a face at them.  “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”  Tanyth whined, crossing her arms and pulling her legs up underneath her.  She flicked the control switch beside her, forcing the swirling white lights in the lanterns along her section of the wall to come to be a bit brighter.  “I’m supposed to have this whole spell written out in early Thalassian by tomorrow but I don’t think I’m going to get it done.”  Tanyth made a resentful face at the parchment and debated setting it on ire.  “I’ve gotten a lot better at Thalassian, but I have to look up and cross-check every bit of the written language and make sure I’m using the proper written word and not just a similarly sounding one because Almighty save you if you use the adverb meaning ‘frostly spell’ instead of the proper noun meaning ‘Frost spell’ because -“

“Yeah.”  Kannan told her with a grin, gesturing to his script tattoo.  “I _know_.”

Tanyth smiled wanly and slumped a bit further into her chair.  “I don’t think I’m nearly as smart as your dad thinks I am, Kannan.  This- all of this- is _hard_.  I’m barely hanging on as it is and-“

Kannan scooted his chair closer and bumped shoulders with her.  “Hey- stop and listen, Tanyth.”  Kannan scrubbed a hand through his wet white hair and leaned closer to her.  “My old man is pushing you hard.  Much harder than he usually pushes his Apprentices.”  Kannan let her crawl over her chair and squeeze in beside him, escaping wisps of Tanyth’s dishwater blonde hair tickling his clean shaven chin.  “Even _Prince Asshat_ has been hinting that the old man is working you too hard.”

Tanyth smothered a hysterical laugh into Kannan’s shoulder, soaking up his proffered warmth and security like a sponge in bubbly bathwater.  “Oh my- are you serious?”

“Yep.”  Kannan confirmed, popping the ‘p’ and wrapping his arm around her, tugging her closer to him.  “I was just as shocked as you.  Though now that I think about it, he has been pretty, uh, _scarce_ since you tossed that vase at him.”

“He deserved it.”  Tanyth persuaded her only friendly innocently.  “And he looked so much prettier with peacebloom plastered against his stupid pointy face.”

“I don’t doubt it.”  Kannan replied diplomatically, arching an eyebrow at Tanyth in a manner that said he was dying for details about the exchange.  “But the why is still a mystery.”

“And it’ll stay that way.”  Tanyth grumped, pointedly burrowing further into Kannan’s embrace- he was warm and smelled really good- and diverting attention back to her crisis.  “But even that cheerful image doesn’t help me.  Man, Master is going to be so disappointed in me!”

Kannan rolled his eyes- Tanyth felt it more than saw it- and huffed.  “Well then, if you’re set on failure I shouldn’t offer my expertise-“

“Too late!”  Tanyth chirped, springing forward to grab the scroll with the original spell on it and shoving it in Kannan’s face.  “Teach me your ways, oh great and powerful Oz!”

“What?”

“…..just shut up and help me!”

“Pushy.”

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

“I vote we run away.”  Kannan groaned, flopped out face-first on the divan in her suite.  “Far, far away.”

Tanyth grunted in assent, fussing with the straps on her sweat-soaked leather bracers.  She still wasn’t anywhere near ready to be casting spells in combat, so she was wearing her favored cloth armor with some simple red-dyed, embroidered bracers.  Hey!  They matched Solaria’s hilt!  And had gold edging!  Unfortunately her original set of bracers had been destroyed during their adventures against the Wrath of Azshara.

“I mean, if we have to go cull Withered and mine another set of exposed leyline crystals because the old man _accidentally_ vaporized the last set he was experimenting with I might just-“  The white-haired man trailed off into incoherent mutters and curses.

“Agreed.”  Tanyth huffed, finally free of her armor, stripped down to her undershirt and boxer-shorts- Margaret was a marvel with the needle- kicking her dirty armor to the side as she launched herself at her bed.

Kelo’reem and the Prince of Silvermoon were currently performing some incredibly shifty experiments with chunks of crystalline mana from the exposed leyline at Zarkenhar.  Unfortunately they were burning through stores of the purple-pink stones at an alarming rate, leaving poor Kannan and Tanyth to make trip after trip to the ruins.  Not only did they have to fight the endless supply of Withered, one had to stay on guard while the other swung a pickaxe.

Mining was _murder_ on her joints.  Tanyth had a whole new appreciation for the Stonemasons and quarry miners.  How the hell could they stand swinging a pickaxe all day?

 _Ugh_.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

Tanyth breathed out softly, watching the moonlight dapple the floor of the gardens as the trees danced in the sea breeze.  It was cooler tonight, much cooler than she had expected and she was thankful she had stuffed a fleece-lined blanket inside her backpack.

She was deeper inside the gardens than she usually wandered, past the carefully manicured hedges, the pretty scenery bits meant to awe guests, and the allotted spaces for training.

No tonight Tanyth was among the oldest goldenwood trees, their trunks thicker than the pillars of the Cathedral.  The floor was golden grasses interspersed with colorful weeds and familiar things such as cheerful yellow dandelions.  Secreted, blended nearly seamlessly into the forest around her were quiet little gazeboes.  Great branches of the goldenwoods twisted and bent, creating canopies, golden flagstones worn smooth while swaying outdoor benches beckoned invitingly. 

The arbor that Tanyth had chosen was rounded with trailing red ivy along its sides.  The goldenwood swing had Thalassian carved into it with bright red cushions and it floated through the air silently.  There were end tables but mostly this arbor gave a beautiful view of a clearing where animals such as dappled does and clusters of sheep went about their business.  Owls hooted high up in the trees, fireflies wove lazy trails through the air, and out beyond her little enclave the symphony of crickets and other nighttime singers filled the night air with nature’s melody.

Tanyth lounged, curled into the curve of the swing and wrapped in her fleece blanket, deep in thought.

Kael’thas and Kelo’reem had suddenly decided to pay a visit to Quel’Thalas via the portals in Dalaran.  The timing was suspect, given the amount of time the two had spent squirreled away in the labs with chunks of crystalline mana.   As a human and a half-elf, respectively, Tanyth and Kannan had not been invited to the incursion, both being given leave from their rather grueling schedules.  Kannan had chosen to head for Booty Bay from Dalaran, ostensibly to look up some old contact- and find a fortnight fling- while Tanyth had chosen to stay at the Morningspring Estate, firmly away from bounty hunters and Onyxia’s reach.

Truth be told she slept most of the first three days, only waking to eat and moving either to her balcony or to her bed depending on where she had been before.  However the luxury of that had been cut short by her waking up in the midmorning of the fourth day brimming with energy feeling as if she was all but bubbling with the Light and arcane power.

No rest for the wicked, indeed.

She had chosen to make a trek to the furthest areas of the gardens to confront something she had long been ignoring. Something that had raised its head during her desperate purge of excess energies.

The Light.  The Void.  _Balance_.

If Tanyth was being entirely honest she did not want to confront the truth of the matter.  It was easier to believe that the Light was good and the Void was bad.  Simpler.  More reassuring.

But……

_‘I shall be telling this with a sigh/Somewhere ages and ages hence:/Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—/I took the one less traveled by,/And that has made all the difference.*’_

Tanyth raised her left hand and let loose a plume of Light.  It sparked, brilliant gold against the darkness, reaching tendrils burning with the intensity of the sun itself.  As it drifted away from her hand it spread, flickered, stuttered.  Then it wavered, shattering into a thousand vivid pieces, weaving away and snuffing out in a shower of shooting stars, splattering the flagstones in a gentle wash of effervescent brilliance.

Her gaze stayed transfixed on the stones long after she had shoved her hand back under her blankets.

The Light was…..it was warmth.  Righteousness.  Benevolence.  Safety.  Truth and justice and zeal.

Tanyth sighed heavily, leaning back to look up at the small patches of sky she could see between the heavy canopy of trees.  She squeezed her eyes shut and wet her dry lips with her tongue, forcing herself to turn her mind towards that which she very much did not want to think on.

The Void.  The Shadow.

Her breaths came heavy, a trembling prelude to sobs as she sought out the dark violet tendril inside her that she usually damned to the lowest depths of Hell and exerted great mental discipline to ignore.  Ignore, deny, and quash.

The metaphysical touch of the Void tendril was cool, cold almost. The Light, long a part of her, shuddered at the action.

Tanyth breathed heavily and wavered for a moment, knowing that she was on the edge of a precipice and her choice would have consequences.  The Void terrified her- and she had good reason to fear it!  There had been that incident that had nearly killed Queen Tiffin and then Onyxia had used twisted Void energies to hurt Tanyth, to try and break Tanyth. 

So she knew, she had experienced a fraction of the Void’s dark capabilities.  And a large part of her wanted nothing to do with the energy.  Not unlike how people avoided people who reminded them of a person- or persons- who had deeply hurt them.

But Tanyth also had life experience to draw on.  Experience taught her that very few things were ever simple.  Black and white.  Cut and dry.

Balance was needed.

Without balance good could become evil.  Righteousness could become wickedness.  Benevolence, once corrupted, became tyranny.  Safety turned into a cage.  Truth gave way to lies, justice gave way to prejudice, zeal turned into sacrilege.

‘ _If it were easy.’_   Tanyth told herself as she took a deep, shaky breath and bulled her way forward.  _‘Everyone would be doing it.’_

And with that she pulled, tapping into her connection to the Void.

It was dark, cold.  But it was a familiar cold and she could see shadows flitting about, some much darker than others.  Her vision was tinted purple in places, near black in others. 

It took a while- a moment, an hour, a day; did time have meaning here?- before she realized that she was still in the arbor.  She turned her hands over and inspected them, bemused.  Shadows engulfed her like a cloak and she felt something inside her mind whispering promises of power, vengeance.

The glowing script of Elune pulsed comfortingly, the shadows shying away from the goddess’ gift.

And with that Tanyth had an epiphany.

“I am Tanyth.”  She said stupidly to the night air, watching the shadows crawl over her skin indifferently.  “I am Tanyth.”  She repeated, sure and weighted in her resolve.  “And I will not be anyone’s _puppet_.”

Tanyth laughed, a strangely layered sound as she came to her decision.  She would use the Light.  She would use the Void.  She would use the arcane.  She would use weapons and words and _everything at her disposal_ to face whatever this second life threw at her.

Her mind stretched, it stretched and felt as if something was trying to invade it, invade her.  Something that wanted to use her like a doll suspended on strings, dancing to a tune it couldn’t hear.

But Tanyth remained.  Remained herself, with all her flaws and shortcomings.

She let the Void- the Shadows?- stay a while longer before she began the task of cutting them off from her.  It resisted, clinging to her like oil and cobwebs.  But slowly her will beat the dark power back, back to that tiny spot inside within her that served as her link.

By the time she finished she was doubled over, shivering with cold and gasping for breath, tears running down her cheeks.  But she was grinning- fierce and satisfied- at confronting something that had been quietly tormenting her for as long as she could remember, even back at the Cathedral.

As the Void was sealed away the comforting presence of the Light filled her once more.  It was the comfort of a familiar pet returning from a long trip and she reveled in the warmth the gold energy gifted her, letting it slowly filter through her and chase away the lingering tendrils of the Void.

Eventually she staggered over to her swing and laid down pulling her blanket tight around herself and pulling out another blanket from her pack to serve as a pillow.

 _‘I wonder why I can use both?’_  She wondered sleepily, shifting until she was fully comfortable on the swaying swing _.  ‘I obviously can’t use them both at the same time- they’re wildly different energies.  Polar opposites.  But, if Consecration is my will, my resolve, my desire to protect given form then what is its opposite?  Desecration?  No, desecration is….well not right.’_

As she drifted off to sleep Tanyth wondered if she could somehow invert the Paladin spell.

**\--XXX---**

Tanyth stood, tapping Solaria tip against the toe of her boots- she had her armor on for this- and musing on her purpose.

“Ok, so.”  She said to the air of the training yard, sweating a bit under the blazing sun, the previous night’s chill long gone.  “Consecration is a Light spell that emboldens allies, bolsters my own resolve, and is essentially my will- no, resolve?  No…. _conviction_!  It’s my _conviction_ given form through the Light!”  Tanyth paused, grimacing a bit as she began to pace, Solaria being used as an emphasizing prop while she walked.

She hoped the training dummies were listening.

“So, what’s the opposite of that?  No, wait- should I even be thinking of it like that?”  Tanyth groaned and increased her pacing speed, walking figure eights in the middle of the trimmed grass.  “Am I being too literal here?  The Light gives freely, the Void does not.  The Void is a fight from the first tendril……so…..so……argh!”

Tanyth kicked a section of grass, stomping her foot down in frustration.  _‘What am I missing?’_

 “Champion?”  Prince Farondis’ query floated over from near the entrance of the training grounds, causing Tanyth to spin on her heel and greet him with a smile.

“Prince Fardonis!  Afternoon!  Did you need me for something?”  She asked politely, lowing Solaria to point towards the ground.

“Nothing that cannot wait.”  The Prince answered with a genial smile, his golden eyes curious.  “May I ask what you were speaking of before I announced myself?”

Tanyth dismissed Solaria, returning the sword to her back and gestured towards the seating area- a bench, a table, and several chairs- seating herself across from the Prince of Azsuna once he had chosen his seat.  “I am trying to…..well.”  Tanyth pursed her lips and tried to think on how to phrase her statement.  Eventually she settled on, “I am curious as to the opposite nature of the Void and the Light.”

Prince Farondis, thankfully, merely looked intrigued as opposed to horrified or disgusted, so she felt safe to continue.

“I know they are opposite forces and I wondered if there was an inversed version of ‘Consecrate’.”  Tanyth smiled sheepishly and hunched over a bit, careful of Solaria’s edge near the back of her left arm.  “But then I got stuck.”

“Hm.”  The Prince of Azsuna considered, leaning forward to rest his chin on an upraised palm.  “The Kal’dorei have a long relationship with the dark and the light.  Elune granted us the ability to blend into the shadows of the night and yet She is a being of light.”  His gaze flickered to Tanyth before he focused on some far away point in the training yard.  “The situations are wildly different, of course, but I am also reminded that for all that Frost and Fire are opposite schools of magic and there are obvious spells that are exactly opposite- Frostbolt and Firebolt, for example- not _all_ spells are direct opposites.”

Tanyth perked up a bit.  “Of course!”  She grinned widely at Prince Farondis, who smiled bemusedly at her.  “You’re so right!”  She crossed her arms and worried her bottom lip as she pondered that.  “So….maybe Consecrate doesn’t have a direct opposite.”

It made an incredible amount of sense and suddenly she was grateful that Prince Farondis had come along before she had done something monumentally _stupid_.

Shadow, the Void, was a realm that thrived on mental manipulations.  From being able to hide in the Shadows to Mind Control, it was _fundamentally_ _different_ than the Light.  Ergo the approach one took to utilizing the power of the Void had to be similarly adjusted, not this copy-paste shite she had been trying to shortcut with!

Though now that Farondis mentioned it, she was curious as to how Elune could grant the ability to hide in the shadows as well as be a being of light as well.  Because no one ever seemed to question that bit of information…..and Elune was rumored to have created the first of the Naaru…..

Hm. 

“I think….”  Tanyth qualified slowly, her gaze dragging itself back t Farondis’ ethereal gold one.  “That I should focus less on making opposite spells and spend more time trying to get a feel for the Void’s process….how it acts, I mean.”

Prince Farondis nodded, smiling at her like a proud teacher.  “Indeed.  I will observe, of course.  I cannot have my Champion delving into the unknown without anyone supervising them.”

The look he gave her made her wince a little and she nodded to show she understood the message.  “Yes, sir.”

“Splendid!”  Prince Farondis declared, clapping his hands together before extending a hand towards her expectantly.  “I require ink and parchment.  We must do this properly, my Champion.”

Tanyth didn’t groan in disappointment as she reached for her backpack.  Really, she didn’t.

_‘Bloody elven perfectionists!’_

**\--XXX---**

Kelo’reem had barely stepped out of the portal before he was in front of her, elegant fingers gripping her shoulders as he stared intently into her eyes.  “Master?”  She queried, somewhat startled.

“You have made a breakthrough.”  Her eccentric teacher announced, sounding proud and put out at the same time.  “I do hope you have been taking notes or we shall have to go over your discoveries in _excruciating_ detail.”

“Yes Master.”  She answered, amused when he simply nodded, gave her a welcoming kiss to her brow, and whirled around, shouting orders.

Kannan sidled up beside her, hair loose around his shoulders and grinning in a very self-satisfied way.  “Lo, Tany.  How was _your_ break?”

“Enlightening.”  She replied wryly, telling her crush on the idiot to kindly fuck off.  “Yours seemed to have been……satisfactory.”

The grin he flashed her was unrepentantly wicked and smug as a cat and whew, _girl_ it did stupid things to her hormones.

Tanyth rolled her eyes- pointedly ignoring the red creeping up her cheeks- and gestured to the small army that was spilling out of the portal.  “What’s up with all them?”

Kannan shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.  “No idea.  Almost all of them are from Silvermoon, though.”

“Weird.”  Tanyth mused, wrinkling her nose a bit at the overwhelming scent of burnt sweetness as the portal abruptly snapped closed, eying the trunks and other various containers cluttering up the portal receiving room with wary interest.

Then Kelo’reem was back and they were both conscripted into ‘helping’.

**\--XXX---**

As it turned out, Kelo’reem and Kael’thas had apparently stumbled onto some sort of amazing Alchemy discovery or something and had gone back to Silvermoon to recruit a small army of minions to do their drudge work.  Kael’thas had gotten stuck at home with his father and the Court for a while, apparently.

Honestly she wished that the asshat was here.  She’d take him and his brand of snarky jerkism over the thirty Magisters who looked at her and Kannan as if they were….well, to be thought of as the dirt beneath their shoes would be an upgrade.

Tanyth and Kannan would have very gladly all but moved out- had taken their tents out and tried on more than one occasion, actually- but Kelo’reem was still Tanyth’s Master and she didn’t want to disappoint him.

So they dealt with the glares, the almost-whispered comments, and the annoying tittering of the assistants.  Admittedly they also spent nights plotting revenge as well, but they were enduring.

Spite was a rather potent motivator, however.

Within a month Tanyth had reasonably mastered Frostbolt, Ice Lance, Firebolt, and Fire Blast.  She made headway in her studies of the nature of the Void with Prince Farondis and performed her weapons training with an unusual amount of ferocity.

The days were busy, hectic even, and full of people Tanyth didn’t like and just like that the one year anniversary of Kelo’reem’s arrival in Azsuna slipped by.

**\--XXX---**

“Yes!”  Tanyth exclaimed, doing a silly little victory dance before she threw herself at Kannan, hugging him so tightly he couldn’t breathe before she turned back to her creation.

It looked like the standard three-point tent, made from sturdy leather.  But it was so much more!

She stooped over, stepping inside, grinning even wider when her feet hit the three wooden steps that led down to the long receiving room.  The room was done in warm woods, built by Azsuna artisans- paid for by Kelo’reem, of course- and was the traditional elven standard of mixed wood and stone.  The floors were done in swirling blue and light purples, smooth to the touch and still sun-warmed from sitting in the Azsuna sunshine. 

The entryway stretched all the way to the lounged-living room area just before the kitchen at the very back.  The walls were solid, with the occasional mirror along the way.  Of course the mirrors were actually windows, so she could see if anyone came in while she was inside the side rooms.  As a security precaution the siderooms- which ran the length of the tent hence the hallway- could only be accessed from the living area.

She walked down the hallway, inspecting the carved vines and elegant swirls of the Darnassian script that ran along the floors, sprawling onto the ceiling and trailing gracefully along the walls; awed that she finally had a place that was entirely _hers_.

Her bedroom.  Her library.  Her study.  Her kitchen.

Not that the Morningspring Estate wasn’t comfortable and familiar, but no matter her cordial relationship with Master Kelo’reem, she was a guest there.  An honored and warmly welcomed guest, but a guest nonetheless.

She grinned over her shoulder at Kannan, bright and cheerful.  “Well, what do you think?”

Kannan arched a white eyebrow at her, blue eyes oddly warm.  “I think it’s beautiful.”  He replied honestly, his bright gaze intently trained on her flushed face- no doubt ready to make some sort of snarky comment about how she could fry an egg on her cheeks.  “Needs some furniture though.”  He mentioned, ambling past her towards the circular living area, gesturing at the empty space.  “Would have been a lot easier if we could have done that before we sealed the space away, but, alas.”

Tanyth wrinkled her nose a little, bouncing forward to look around at her living room.

Due to the intricacies of sealing a complex as large as her new tent-home away into a pocket dimension- so much math!- only the permanent portions could be used during the initial sealing process.  Variables like furniture would have destabilized the process. 

Hell, even her baths were part of a fixed system.  She would need to fill the holding tanks with fresh water to both drink and bathe in as water couldn’t be sealed away in the initial process either!  It was a variable, after all!  There was a system in place to recycle her bathwater through filters to be reused, so it wasn’t too much of an imposition but she would eventually have to add more water to the ‘tanks’.    

But, really, that was a small price to pay for what she had!  No more sleeping on the ground and waking up to the sensations of creepy crawlies for her!

And she would need to stock up on food as well.  Fortunately there were enchantments that could essentially keep food fresh forever, but she still needed to stock up.  And books!  All of her notes and the books she had painstakingly copied by hand would need to go into the library and she would need to move her clothes and armor and-

“Tan?”  Kannan called, breaking her out of her mental to-do list.  He was leaned up against the curved wall of the living room, arms crossed and an indecipherable smile sprawled across his mouth.  She paused, wondering if he was alright, but then he blinked and the expression was gone and in its place was his usual mien.  “Planning to pack up and run away already?”

She laughed, stumbling towards him and bumping their shoulders together warmly, grinning stupidly at her new space.  “Hardly.”  She managed around her surging sense of gratitude.  “Master would _murder_ me and it’s not like I’d go anywhere without you anyways- I haven’t forgiven you yet, mister!”

Kannan laughed then, tipping his head back to lean against the smooth wall and letting his eyes fall closed.  But there was something- something in his stance loosened, settled and suddenly everything was okay again.  The awkward crack between them that she hadn’t even really realized was there mended itself and he was her best friend again.

 _‘That was weird.’_ She mused, casting her eager gaze around again, enjoying the serene stillness between them.  Tanyth looked around the place that was now hers.  She watched as the swirling arcane lights bobbed gently inside their elegantly carved holders, their light falling cheerfully over the expertly blended wood and stonework, shimmering in the bevels of the polished glass- and for the first time she had woken up in Azeroth she felt like she was _home_.

―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――
> 
> *Robert Frost, of course
> 
> ―――ᴖᴗ―□―∞―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞◊―●―○ᴖᴗ―□―∞―≡―◊―●―○―ᴖᴗ―◊―――


End file.
